


9 - Janeway's Sacrifice

by redheadgrrl1960



Series: Among Stars [9]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Adventure, Drama, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 10:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11289267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redheadgrrl1960/pseuds/redheadgrrl1960
Summary: This story was written in my VERY early fanfiction career. (Between 2000 and 2004) Please excuse my English and my fanfic habits when it comes to style and word choice.I post this and some other Janeway/Seven stories here on AO3 since I thought it might be of interest to someone and I want all my stories in one place.





	1. Prologue & Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in my VERY early fanfiction career. (Between 2000 and 2004) Please excuse my English and my fanfic habits when it comes to style and word choice.  
> I post this and some other Janeway/Seven stories here on AO3 since I thought it might be of interest to someone and I want all my stories in one place.

Prologue

 

Alone in the unforgiving cold, Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager pushed herself forward on aching knees and elbows. Stealing herself, Janeway subdued the urge to clatter her teeth.  _The only good thing about this blistering cold is that it numbs the pain._  Janeway had lost the feeling of her fingertips, her nose and ears, over an hour ago.

The tunnel was damp and flooded in places. The cement glistened in the light of her headlamp as she kept a sharp eye out for the indigenous creatures that favoured the taste of unguarded pieces of human flesh. She hated this damn planet.

Squinting, she thought she could see a faint light ahead. Risking turning the headlamp off, Janeway stopped and pulled out her tricorder. Scanning the tunnel ahead, she nodded briskly to herself. Not much further now.

Her coveralls were stained, stiff from having been worn daily since she managed to escape. What was it? Two months ago? She had lost track of the days. She had taken cover in the woods. The rough terrain had kept her safe, hiding her tracks from those who would do her harm. It had also gained her a host of injuries which included a broken collarbone and several lacerations as she had traversed across the almost impenetrable territory. She switched on the headlamp again and kept crawling.

The light at the end of the narrow tunnel grew steadily. Soon she was able to reach out and touch the thin metal bars that were blocking her path. Pulling out a small disrupter she had managed to rewire, she pressed it against the bars and pressed the button. Slowly, the disruptor worked as a plasma cutter, cutting a hole large enough to fit her body through it. Before she could grab it with her frozen fingers, the bars fell to the floor inside the room making a resounding noise.

Holding her breath, Janeway waited for klaxons to howl, men to call out, disruptor fire to light up the tunnel, but nothing like that happened. Pushing through the hole, she landed on her feet, making hardly any sound.

Moving towards the cabinet holding the deadly over-the-shoulder disruptor cannons, Janeway put her remodelled weapon to use again. Once she had her hands on one of these babies, she could only hope she would be at Voyager’s crash site in time. If not, the chance of rescuing Seven, the entire crew, would be lost forever.

 

 **Chapter 1**.

Her head hurt. Carefully moving her arms, the pain and loss of strength in her extremities became apparent. Impatiently, the woman tried to sit up in the dimly lit room, only to find warm, reassuring hands trying to hold her down.

“No, no, you can’t sit up yet. You’re recovering from a severe head injury.”

Was that Chakotay? What the hell was he doing in their quarters? “What happened?” she whispered huskily, impatient with her body and with him, for not assisting her.

“You’ve been unconscious for quite some time. We’ve managed to keep you alive, and hidden, for now. Don’t speak so loud. They’ll hear you.” Chakotay’s dark, handsome face came into view.

There was something wrong with it. His hair was long, lying in a wave against his collar, not in his usual short cropped, impeccable style. His collar … Her eyes grew wide, hurting her head even more. He was dressed in civilian clothes, not unlike the ones he wore as a Maquis captain.

“Why are you out of uniform?” Looking around the room, she realised they were in some wooden structure. “Where are we?” Her voice began to tremble. “And where’s Tom?”

“I’m right here, B’Elanna.” Her husband entered, bringing a steaming bowl of something that made her mouth water. Kneeling next to the bed, after placing the bowl on a wooden chair next to it, he took her in his arms. “I heard your unmistakable voice as I finished eating. We’ve been waiting for you to come out of the coma. The Doctor assured us that you would.”

“The Doctor? Is he here?”

The two men exchanged glances. “We can only afford to bring the Doctor online half an hour a day. We use stolen batteries to keep his mobile emitter going, but any longer and that, we’d deplete it beyond what it can take.”

“Why are we here? What happened?” B’Elanna allowed Tom to spoon feed her the soup, grateful to receive something to take away the foul taste in her mouth. “How long?”

Another person entered the room, and B’Elanna’s eyes brimmed with tears of relief when she saw Lt Commander Tuvok approach her bed. “Tuvok!”

“Lieutenant. It is good to see you regain consciousness.” The Vulcan did not smile, but the warmth in his voice was apparent. “I will alert Mr Neelix to make more soup.”

“Neelix is still in charge of the kitchen.” Chakotay gave a tired smile. “He’s efforts receive much more appreciation these days.”

“Where’s the rest of the senior crew? Harry? The captain … Seven?” B’Elanna swallowed the last of the soup and rested her head against her husband’s shoulders. “You have to tell me what happened.”

“You’re too weak …”

Tom received a scorching glare for such an insult. “Tell me.”

Chakotay’s face grew serious, and there was a sorrowful expression in his brown eyes. “Do you remember anything?”

B’Elanna tried, but to no avail. “No. Last I remember was when the captain and Seven announced their engagement on Seven’s birthday. The entire ship was one big party and …” She frowned, annoyed at the fleeting images scattered in her mind. “I was checking something in engineering when the warp core … Something happened.”

Tom held her close, stroking her hair. “Yes. Harry had the conn and responded to an emergency beacon in a nearby system. It wasn’t until we were in orbit, he realised, and the rest of us with him, that something was very wrong.”

The red alert klaxons blared continuously as the intrepid class ship lurched. Janeway fought her way to the bridge, constantly tossed to the floor when inertial dampeners went offline. She slapped her comm badge before managing to get to her feet. “Janeway to the bridge! What’s our status, Mr Kim?”

“Something far stronger than our propulsion system is pulling us in, Captain. We have rerouted all our power to the main deflector. Shields are up; we’re pulling back as much as we dare. Any more and she’ll go to pieces.”

“I don’t care. Give it everything. We’re going to crash otherwise, Harry!”

Finally able to crawl up a ladder through a Jeffrey’s tube, Janeway made it onto the bridge. Harry Kim seemed relieved to hand the responsibility over to his captain and resumed his place at ops. Tom Paris was at the helm, but Tuvok and Chakotay were still missing.

“On screen. I want to see what‘s pulling us in.”

“There’s an unknown energy source with a magnetic pull like I have never encountered. The computer can’t make heads or tails of it, ma’am.” Harry held on to his console when Voyager lurched again. “The best way to describe it is that we’re caught in some sort of super-tractor beam.”

“Full thrusters, Mr Paris. Get us the hell away from here.” Janeway’s voice was a raw growl.

“The control’s are not responding, Captain. Somehow the warp core is partially off line.”

“Bridge to engineering. B’Elanna, we need more power.” Only static was heard and Janeway tried again. “Bridge to engineering. Respond.” She slammed a fist into the armrest of her chair. “Damn. Bridge to astrometrics. Seven, respond.” Still nothing. She extinguished the small flame of panic in her chest. Seven was all right. She had to be.

“We’ve lost internal communications, Captain.” Harry shouted.

“Turn off the damn klaxons.” Janeway’s mind reeled. The sudden silence allowed her to focus more.  _Our shields are intact, but that’s about it. We have no propulsion, we can’t get loose from this thing, and we are slowly but surely going down. We can’t even perform a controlled landing of the ship._

“All hands. Brace for impact. I repeat, brace for impact!”

“They can’t hear you, ma’am.” Harry said in a low voice.

“I know.” Janeway hoped the seasoned crew would somehow realise what was going on and take the necessary precautions. “Tom, try to pull us up and out of here. Give Voyager what she needs to do this.”

Tom punched in several commands. “The propulsion systems are down, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

Voyager suddenly seemed to slide to starboard, do a sharp turn, as if guided by an invisible deity, only to stand on its ‘nose’ and embark on a deadly trajectory towards the surface. Pressed into her chair, under the onslaught of more G’s than she dare to imagine, Janeway closed her eyes, trying to block out the pain. She’s going to burn up when we hit the atmosphere layer. We’ll incinerate. “Lower the struts, Tom. If there’s a chance for us to walk away from this, I’m going to take it.”

“Struts deployed, Captain.”

Voyager seemed unstoppable, but then the invisible hand levelled the ship out, let it descend toward the surface at a more reasonable speed. After a while, Janeway punched in commands to get an external view. Not having realised how close to the ground they were, she gasped at how Voyager almost touched the treetops, speeding perhaps fifty metres above ground.  _We’re crashing. There’s no way we can land her like this._

Now the ship was breaking off small trees as it lost more altitude. Miraculously a wide open area came into view just as the ship touched down, slid across what looked like a landing area and came to a screeching halt, still erect on its struts.

   
  
---  
  
B’Elanna’s eyes ached with unshed tears. “Voyager … this ship’s down?”  _She’s more than just a vessel. She’s my pride._

“Not far from here. They keep us in barracks close to the landing areas. Apparently they have areas like these scattered all over the planet.” Chakotay pulled the covers up around B’Elanna. “It gets very cold here in the evenings and during the night. The planet is an L-class world with barely space faring people. They guard us diligently, and as we understand, shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Where’s Janeway? Surely she can find something to negotiate with them for?” B’Elanna coughed and a searing pain spread through her chest.

“Careful. You came down with pneumonia and were quite ill before we could find a way to steal the Doctor’s mobile emitter and bring him online. We have med kits, but not enough for everyone.”

Realising what Tom meant, B’Elanna recoiled. “There have been fatalities.”

“Yes. Several.”

“You didn’t tell me about Janeway. Where’s the captain now?”

Exchanging glances, Chakotay and Tom seemed at a loss for words. “We don’t know.” Chakotay rubbed his forehead, looking up at Tuvok.

“As the Commander says, we do not know,” the Vulcan concurred. “However, after two months … we have no indication that she is still alive.”

A muted whimper crept over B’Elanna’s lips. “And Seven?”

Tom’s arms tightened their grip around her. “I know this is going to be too much for you to hear, darling. But the truth is ... we’re going to lose her.”

Janeway looked up at the enormous man in front of her. Dressed in such high-tech gear that he vaguely resembled a Borg drone, the way he spoke made it abundantly clear he was not. “Get on your feet, woman. Move!”

Prodding her back with his weapon, the soldier—she could only assume he was a soldier—gathered the bridge crew, moving them through Voyager’s corridors. More crewmembers were joining them, treated in the same callous manner by the men and women who had boarded Voyager.

The crew had quickly resumed their battle stations, arming themselves with rifles and phasers, but to no avail. The body armour these soldiers wore, absorbed even phasers set to kill. Only a direct hit in the face seemed to stop them.

Janeway looked up as they passed a turbo lift. The doors opened and an alien soldier pushed three crewmembers outside, one of them being Seven.

“Seven,” Janeway mouthed, careful not to show the enemy who among the crew mattered most to her. She noticed Seven’s furtive glance and carefully shook her head.  _Pretend I’m just your captain, sweetheart. Keep walking._

Flashbacks from when the Kazons had stranded them on a planet, taking off with Voyager, came and went. They had survived that, and they would live through this. Straightening her aching back, Janeway walked with the others, leaving the ship.

Outside the sun was setting and it was quickly getting colder. A man dressed slightly different than the rest of the boarding party let his bright eyes scan the Voyager crew. “Are these all?” he thundered.

“Sir, yes, sir. We had to render a few of them harmless. Just because they didn’t see reason, Commander.”

Harmless? Oh, my God, who’ve you killed? Bastards! Janeway willed her face to stay indifferent, but she could hear younger crewmembers deep intake of breath as the universal translator made it clear what the inhabitants of this godforsaken place were saying.

“How many?” the leader asked.

“Six. One of them put up a long, good fight.” The solider making the remark sounded pleased. “I had to kill him. The others are only wounded.”

Stealthily looking around, Janeway’s eyes met Tom’s. The pilot’s eyes were filled with anxiety as they scanned the crewmembers closest to them.

“B’Elanna,” he whispered. “I can’t see her!”

Her heart twitching with pain, Janeway returned her focus on the leader.

“Who’s your captain?” he growled. “I don’t have time for games. If your captain doesn’t step forward, I’ll just shoot you one at a time and sooner or later I’ll get it right.”

“I’m the captain.” Two voices apart from her own were heard. Glancing to her left, Janeway saw Chakotay taking a step forward, just like she had. To her right, the Doctor did the same thing. He’s wearing his mobile emitter.  _Damn, what are they doing?_

“I’m the captain,” Janeway repeated, taking one more step. “We came in peace, responding to an emergency hail. Why are you treating us this way? You have no right to attack us.”

“Oh,” the leader said, his eyes glittering. “You think this is an attack? Nothing could be further from the truth. This is not an attack. Think of it as … as …” He snapped his fingers while pondering the term he was after. “Yeah, that’s right. Think of it as harvesting.”

“Am I to assume either my ship, or my crew, is the ‘crop’?” Janeway hissed.

“You’re catching on.” Snapping his fingers again, the leader turned to a woman standing close to him. “Round them up. Take’em to the barracks. Put the wounded in one of the rooms and let their mates tend to them. We might get something for’em yet.”

“What do you mean? What are you plans for us?” Janeway demanded to know.

As if the man realised for the first time, this captain would not go quietly, he walked close to her, his breath gushing over her face as his large, bulky frame hovered above her. “You’re my harvest. It’s been a pretty measly crop, but some of you don’t’ look to bad, yourself included. It’s a pity I can’t allow you to go where the rest of’em are going. You’d bring a neat sum with that hair and your fiery temper.” He looked up, scanning the crew filing before him. “And her.” He lit up. “Now, she’s going to come in very handy. In fact, you can say a woman like that, can save a man.” Rubbing his gloved hands, the nameless leader directed all his attention toward Seven of Nine. “Hey, you.” He pointed at the soldier closest to the ex-Borg. “Bring her to the Big House. We have to make sure she’s unharmed.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Janeway fought to keep the dread out of her voice. Seven passed them, her blue eyes locked on Janeway’s.

“She’s going to keep us all out of trouble.” The alien laughed; a hissing sound deep from his throat.

Unable to see his face behind the face shield, Janeway knew she had to at least try. Throwing herself forward, she kicked the soldier closest to her just beneath his knee. He screamed out in pain, or perhaps surprise, and almost toppled over. Janeway reached for Seven, who pulled the captain with her, back towards the crew.

“Kathryn! Do not try to rescue me like this. This is Species 888. They are a ruthless people, always at war with each other. They are strong believers in their own mythology and they will not hesitate to kill you for the smallest of transgressions.”

“Get her!”

Strong arms pulled at the ex-Borg who complied. “I am coming willingly. Spare the crew and the captain. I will not fight you.”

“You better not.”

Janeway watched as two soldiers removed Seven from the rest of them. Blinking back tears of fear and fury, she did not see the leader approach. Only when a fierce blow to the back of her head hit, did she try to shield herself.

“Stupid woman. You will never get a chance to disobey me again.” He pulled her by the collar, away from the crew and into a small shed further down a gravel path. Slamming the door, he locked her inside.

Janeway wrapped both arms around herself. There were no windows and the darkness heightened her sense of smell. A strange odour plagued her nose and she did not want to think of its origin.

The thin walls provided no protection from the cold. As the hours went by and her body became numb from hypothermia and from fear what these people were doing with Seven and her crew, she suddenly sat up, staring at the far wall.

Thin walls. Perhaps not thin enough to keep her in.  
  
---  
  
 


	2. Chapter 2

She heard the soldiers searching the jungle around her on numerous occasions during the last few weeks, using growling creatures to try and pick up her scent. Terrified they would succeed, Janeway had come across a plant with a distinctive scent, like strong menthol, and grabbed handful of leaves from it, rubbing it over her torn uniform and her skin. The strong oil seeping out from the crushed leaves stung her wounds and she could only hope it wasn’t poisonous.

This time they were too close. Tearing through the jungle, looking for refuge, she stumbled upon something looking like a rope ladder hanging from one of the majestic trees. Not hesitating, knowing they weren’t far behind her, she climbed, her hands and shoulders still aching from breaking through the thin walls of the shed they had kept her in on that first day.

Once she was sure there were no guards in place behind the locked door, she had placed all her strength into the martial art kicks B’Elanna once taught her and broken through the walls, sending thin wood and rotting planks flying. There were still splinters buried deep within her flesh on her hands and arms, and despite her efforts to dig them out, she could tell they were becoming infected.

The ladder took her more than ten metres up along the massive trunk. A large branch provided enough space to sit in relative comfort. Janeway quickly hauled the rope up, holding her breath as the creatures led by the soldiers approached.

The sniffing and growling doglike animals, not even close to her own dog, Molly, back in the Alpha Quadrant, stopped, circled the tree, whimpering as they lost the faint scent of her. The men raised their disruptors, ready to fire. She realised then, they most likely had orders to shoot her on sight. Pressing her back against the trunk of the tree, Janeway held still, forcing her body not to tremble despite the cold.

When finally the animals set off in three different directions, she allowed a deep breath to gush from her lungs. Slumping, she rubbed her face, grimacing against the pain in her skin from the alien substance. She would wait half an hour and then continue in the fourth direction, where they would not track her for a while.  _Thank the Gods. The damn plant extract threw those monsters off enough to not catch my scent up the trunk._ Closing her eyes for just a moment, Janeway admitted her bone-deep fatigue.

It only seemed like minutes later, when she woke up, startled by a noise close by. A dark shadow balanced easily on the branch next to her. Janeway tried to get up, feeling her feet slipping as she scrambled to move down the tree. Toppling over, she knew she was going to fall to the ground.

A strong hand shot forward, grabbing Janeway’s torn uniform by the collar, pulling her back up. She barely registered the ripping sound from the fabric.

The hand pressed her against the trunk behind her. A deep, stern voice spat in annoyance. “Damn, are you trying to kill yourself, woman? Who the hell are you?

B’Elanna clung to Tom’s arm, the bile rising in her throat at the ominous words. “What do you mean?”

“The inhabitants of this planet, the  _Sidiors_ , have kept her secluded since they rounded us up.” Tom shook his head, steering away from his startling remark earlier. “After forcing Voyager from orbit, and almost crashing the ship in the process, they divided us up according to rank. It didn’t take them long to figure out. They’ve segregated senior crew members from the rest of the crew, took away our uniforms, and comm badges. They’re holding the captain in isolation, or at least that’s what we hope.”

“Are you trying to say you think the captain is dead?” B’Elanna looked at him, stunned by the words Tom had just uttered in pain. 

“I’m trying to say we don’t know.” Tom’s jaws worked as he clenched his teeth. “We’ve tried to persuade them to bring her back to the senior officer’s barracks, but to no avail. They marched her off somewhere, and we haven’t seen her since.” He cleared his voice before continuing. “We managed to convince them that Seven would not survive long without access to a regeneration alcove. They seemed to take a special interest in her, so they obliged. We’ve seen them escort her back and forth between the leader’s house and Voyager, every other day.”

“Voyager’s close by?”

“She’s still here, on the other side of the compound. We feared they’d gut her of her technology, but it seems they’re waiting for something … or someone.” Chakotay leaned forward on his chair. “The last few days, we’ve seen more activity and more fighters present, than before. Something’s up.”

B’Elanna blinked repeatedly, her mind whirling. “What about the crew?” she asked. “You said they separated the lower ranks from the senior crew members.”

“Yes. Divide and conquer.” Tuvok’s voice was matter of fact, but B’Elanna thought she could detect a tone of weariness. “This is no doubt the logic used behind removing the captain from among us. I however am of the belief that she is alive. Do not underestimate our commander.”

“I hate to be the pessimist, but isn’t that a bit unrealistic?” Paris asked.

“Yes. Divide and conquer.” Tuvok’s voice was matter of fact. "Perhaps, but the captain has proven to be quite resourceful. It would be illogical to count her out as a factor until will know her true disposition,” B’Elanna listened quietly trying to absorb all that Tom and Tuvok were saying. More than anything, Voyager’s engineer wanted to believe in her captain’s knack for getting out of harm’s way no matter how grim the circumstances were, but this? Shuddering, she pressed closer to Tom. “So what is this place? A military compound?”

More than anything, Voyager’s engineer wanted to believe in her captain’s knack for getting out of harm’s way no matter how grim the circumstances were, but this. Shuddering, she pressed closer to Tom. “So what is this place? A military compound?”

“Yes, I think that’s a good description, although the fighters act more like thugs. I have a feeling they are either mercenaries, in this for profit, or their society has broken down, and it’s every man, or woman, for themselves.” Chakotay shrugged.

“What happened to me?” B’Elanna whispered, suddenly afraid what she might hear.

Tom paled exchanging a quick glance with the other men. “We’re not exactly sure, honey. You were missing for more than a week. At first we thought they’d taken you to some infirmary, or perhaps to where they took the captain … but suddenly, two of them came carrying you on a stretcher. You were unconscious.” He placed soft kisses along the ridges on her forehead. “I was going nuts, honey. I was ready to tear the place down.”

“That’s no exaggeration. We had planned how to raid the quarters, when you were returned to us, B’Elanna,” Chakotay concurred. “The plans are still valid, but we’ve had to delay them, since you and fourteen other members of our crew, were in serious condition.”

B’Elanna tried in vain to take all the information in. She was exhausted after being conscious throughout this informal briefing. Tom’s arms around her helped, but a thought kept nagging at her. “Does Seven know Janeway’s missing?”

“We don’t know,” replied Chakotay, his face darkening. “Our fear is for Seven’s immediate safety. They may have special plans for her, since she’s an ex-Borg. I don’t like the way the Sidior leader looks at her, like she’s a piece of meat.”

Alarmed, B’Elanna ignored her aching, weakened state, sitting up. “You’re not telling me he’s using her?”

“Shhh, darling, easy now.” Tom pulled her back onto his shoulder. “We have no way of knowing this. There’s no indication in Seven’s demeanour that this has happened.”

_Yet?_  B’Elanna swallowed hard. She and Seven had butted heads on more occasions than she could keep track of, but lately, they’ve embarked on a promising friendship. When Seven and Janeway became a couple, B’Elanna had doubted the two women’s future, but then changed her mind. The overwhelming passion in Janeway’s eyes when she regarded the younger woman spoke volumes. Seven’s feelings were just as obvious, since the former drone saw no reason to hide how she felt for her captain.

“Perhaps she doesn’t care what happens to her, if she thinks, or knows, Janeway’s dead?” B’Elanna whispered.

“Seven loves Kathryn,” Chakotay allowed. “She also loves Naomi Wildman, Neelix, and the Doctor. She cares for the entire crew. Don’t sell her short. She’d never give up on any of us. Just think of the many times she’s been prepared to sacrifice her life for Voyager.”

“That’s just it. Perhaps that’s exactly what she’s doing.” Another thought hit the Klingon-Human hybrid. “What about Harry?” She looked up at Tom, her blood turning to ice in her veins at his pained expression. “What about  _Harry_?” she insisted.

Tom sounded hollow, his voice without intonation. “Harry’s dying. We bring the Doctor online once a day, like we told you, and he spends about twenty minutes of his allotted time with Harry.”

“Where is he? You have to take me to him!” B’Elanna’s stomach lurched at the thought of the young ensign, seasoned beyond his years when Voyager was tossed into uncharted space. Harry Kim, trusting, homesick for Earth, and sometimes annoyingly boyish …  _Why does he always have to take the fall?_

“He’s in the next room. Neelix is tending to him as if he was his son, between preparing meals. Harry’s receiving the best care possible under the circumstance.” Chakotay patted B’Elanna’s hand. “We’ll take you to him later, when you’re stronger.”

Tears overflowed and B’Elanna hid her face against Tom’s neck, as sobs shook her thin frame. She could hardly fathom it all. The captain was missing, they held Seven in seclusion, Harry was dying, and they were all at the mercy of a thug race in an alien world.  _Please, wake me up, Tom._ Tears overflowed and B’Elanna hid her face against

Janeway grabbed a weapon’s harness from the cabinet, attaching several shock-grenades, plasma cylinders, and ammunition for the disruptor cannon. Reaching for the heavy weapon, she pulled it over her shoulder, displeased when her knees buckled under its weight. She was not in shape after starving in the jungle. On occasion, she had come across plants her tricorder deemed as edible, but not until she ran into the band of rebels, had she eaten anything substantial.

The leader of the rebels, a tall, dark woman named Kingas, had originally kept her chained to a pole. Janeway had almost given up then. Exhausted, hungry, and frozen, she had glared at the proud jungle warrior in front of her.  
.  
  
---  
  
“Why don’t you kill me and get it over with, if you don’t believe me?” Janeway hissed, almost beyond caring.

“Something tells me I might make a grave mistake, if I do.” Deep and resonant, the woman’s voice still sounded doubtful. “You’re not much of a threat right now. You’re however in dire need of food and water, I think.”

_Damn right, I am._  Desperate not to show how astute the other woman’s observation was, Janeway tried to regain her composure. She figured these jungle-based rebels were not without technology, even if their camp looked humble at first sight. They must possess a universal translator, since Janeway automatically understood their native tongue. Her own had been torn from her uniform on the first day.

“My name is Kingas. Why don’t we eat and then talk some more, during more relaxed circumstances,” her captor suggested. “We’re having a stew.”

Janeway hoped it was not a stew of any of the many rodents in the jungle. Similar to rats, they were everywhere, jumping from the trees when you least expected it, ready to dig their sharp teeth into tender flesh.

She studied the rebels gathering around the fire. They were dressed in grey coveralls of sorts, all of them wearing black bandanas around their heads. They looked similar in race to the men who pulled Voyager out of orbit, but with subtle differences. Where the men from the first day had blue-green tinted skin, these people’s complexion was closer to human colours.

Someone yanked one of her hands free from her restraints, then placing a bowl and spoon in front of her. “Eat.”

“Thank you.” No harm in being polite, the captain mused, before devouring the stew, not caring which animal she was digesting. The food warmed her belly and made her relax marginally.

“So, more inclined to talk now?” the rebel leader asked, tearing off a long blade of grass and chewing on it. Her raven hair, kept in a tight whip on her back, framed a bold face. Kingas eyes were silver grey, deeply set under strong, black eyebrows. Her nose slightly hawklike, suited her forceful appearance, as did her firm lips. Unlike the others, she wore a black leather vest, with a heavy weapon’s harness attached to it, denoting her as their leader. The woman looked deadly, but at least she seemed approachable.

“By all means. Let’s talk.” Janeway kept her voice even.

“Who are you? Why have you fled into the jungle?”

_Okay, the third degree._  “I’m hiding from someone who kidnapped me.”

“Someone? Just one person?”

“No, an entire military unit, from what I could see.” Janeway’s voice betrayed her anger and fear.

“Ah, you’ve run into Masier and his men. They’re a dirty, corrupt gang of mercenaries, working for who ever pay the most. Right now, it’s the Sidiors in power. Masier and his gang claim they do their duty, but all they really do is terrorise the area and do other people's dirty business for them. My condolences for ending up in their tender care.” Her eyes narrowed. “Masier would never go through this much trouble, unless there was more at stake. Were there more people involved?”

“My crew.” Janeway’s throat ached.  _My woman. Seven._  Mentally slapping herself, she forced her thoughts away from the tall, beautiful blonde that was her fiancée. She would break, shatter in a million pieces, if the thought of Seven being lost to her gained ground.

Kingas waved a man closer. “Donodas, they’ve got another case of ship-wrecking going on.” She turned back to Janeway. “It’s the third one this solar cycle.”

“This is a common method?” Janeway snarled. “What the hell’s going on here? Don’t the authorities prevent this kind of piracy?”

“You don’t understand,” the husky baritone belonging to Donodas interrupted. Like his leader, he was intimidating, but in a more physical way. His head shaved, and wearing a sleeveless coverall, displaying his wiry muscles beneath weathered skin, the large man towered over them. “The authorities condone it, since it provides them with workers, ships, and keep the…” A glance from Kingas silenced him.

“And?”

“An alibi if they are ever challenged by a higher authority. They allow mercenaries like Masier to run their dirty business so they can claim to have no knowledge of these acts of piracy.” Kingas rose and walked behind Janeway, liberating her from the last hand restraint. “What’s your rank?”

Reluctant to respond, Janeway rubbed her wrist, restoring circulation. “Why do you ask?”

“You escaped. If your rank is of importance, they might be looking for you. So, what is it?” Stern ice-blue eyes locked on Janeway’s.

“I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager.”

Kingas eyes widened and she took the straw from the corner of her mouth. “Oh, shit.”

Seven of Nine, late of the Borg Collective, regarded the man in front of her with indifferent eyes. She despised him and her deep frustration made it difficult to maintain an unconcerned front. She knew if she gave into him, if she surrendered to him, or to her fear, she would lose.

“Time again for your nap? How was your last one? Did you dream of me?” The man who had finally introduced himself as Masier, commander of this unit, winked at her.

“The regeneration cycle always proceeds within normal parameters.”

“No dreams? What a pity.” Masier rose and walked over to her. “Why don’t you sit? Relax, have a drink, act normal, damn it?”

“Define normal,” Seven suggested, keeping her Borg hand firmly clasped with her human hand, behind her back. Not a minute went by when she did not want to throttle this man. But, not until he disclosed the captain’s whereabouts.

Every time she was escorted onboard Voyager; she looked for her fiancée, scanning the tarmac with hungry eyes. Not once had she spotted the familiar auburn head. She had seen Commander Chakotay, Tom Paris, and Neelix. They seemed to share quarters. There were no signs of B’Elanna, Harry Kim, or the Doctor. Seven surmised the Doctor was hidden. She hoped the crew kept his mobile emitter in a safe place, and remembered to charge it regularly.

“All right, woman. You’re one stubborn bitch. Take her to the ship. In shackles!”

Steel hand and foot shackles were attached to her wrists and ankles, connected with a chain linking them together. Seven knew she could break them instantly with her Borg strength, but so far, there had been no need, or opportunity, to reveal this ability. Once she had the chance to escape, Seven knew it would be just the one; she would need the element of surprise her Borg strength provided.

Two men took her by the arms and dragged her down the small flight of stairs. Pushing her slightly ahead of them, they began the march towards Voyager. She could see the sleek ship’s outline against the sky, and for her it was like coming home to an abandoned house, comforting and intimidating at the same time.

She used her time in the Borg alcove well. They allowed her two hours every other day, and besides charging her Borg systems, she also downloaded and uploaded information about the planet, its inhabitants, and its military in particular.

Suddenly she saw Chakotay in the corner of her eye and the sight of Voyager’s first officer, dressed in worn, tattered clothes, made her throat clench. The door opened behind the tall man, and Tom Paris came outside, steadying a smaller figure next to him.

_B’Elanna!_  Tears rose in Seven’s eyes. This was the first sign of hope for them in a long time. She had feared the engineer was dead, and here she was. Pale, unsteady, and obviously not well.  _But alive._

“Keep walking!” A soldier pushed her from behind, making her stumble in her shackles. She passed her crewmates, only fifty metres between them, and she could not say anything to them, in case this may be harmful. She thought of her latest attempt of rerouting data streams and reconfigurating her cortical implant. If everything went well during this upcoming regeneration cycle, she may be able to communicate with the ones left of the senior crew. It all depended on the Doctor’s mobile emitter.

Once onboard Voyager, it felt strange to see aliens working the controls, trying to obtain data from the ship. Janeway had locked the computer system with her personal seal, and Seven had strengthened it against any attempts to break the code, using a Borg encryption code, during her first regeneration cycle.

The aliens were frustrated; she could sense it as she walked by them on her way to Cargo Bay 2. They were not successful, and their exasperation pleased her. She stepped inside her regeneration alcove. It felt like she was returning home.  _Dreams? Of course, I dream while I regenerate, Masier. But not of you. Only of my Kathryn. My love._

The nodules automatically sought out the small sockets in her lower back and attached themselves. A buzz reverberated throughout her system as Seven succumbed to the technology keeping her alive.  _My Kathryn._

Janeway refused to let the large weapon’s weight slow her down. Too much was at stake and she needed to stay on schedule. Moving towards the door, she opened a small crack, glancing through it. Two guards stood with their backs against her, about twenty-five metres away. Checking her chronometer, Janeway knew she had to risk it.

Slipping outside, she moved along the path behind the fighters. She was grateful that the rubber sole of the shoes Kingas had offered her allowed soundless movements. She needed to get to the point where firing the disruptor cannon would do the most harm without being detected.

Two shadows silently moved into position. Quickly, they grabbed the unsuspecting men around the neck with one arm, placing stun guns against their temples with the other. Seconds later, they were being hauled into the jungle by Kingas’ men, stripped of their uniforms.

Janeway did not stop to look, but she knew only a minute from now, two new ‘mercenaries’ would emerge to replaced the unconscious ones. Kingas’ men. Moving along the outer perimeter, just inside the tarmac edge to avoid the plasma mines that had killed at least seven of Kingas’ unit over the last two year. “As long as the ground was paved, you were reasonably sure,” Kingas’ had told her. “Out in the dirt, you can dig and hide just about anything.”

Reaching the first barracks, Janeway made sure she was out of sight. She needed to get to the one where they kept the senior officers. Realising her presence would cause a commotion among a crew who thought their captain was dead, Janeway held onto the heavy weapon on her shoulder, sweat pouring down her face in the cool air.  _What am I going to find?_  There were so many faces she had not seen yet, while reconnoitred. Three times, Kingas, Donodas, and Janeway had dared approach the base, hiding in the low brushes, seven hundred metres away. Being there was madness, according to Kingas, but they needed to scout the place if they were to succeed.

Not once during these three one-hour surveillance opportunities had she seen Seven. Her eyes burned while looking in the binoculars Kingas provided, she saw other familiar faces, but not the woman she loved.

_I’m on my way, Seven. You have to be here. I went for help and I’ve come back._  
  
---  
  
 


	3. Chapter 3

“He is hardly breathing.” B’Elanna felt out of breath herself. Staring down at Harry’s pasty face, she clenched her fists hard. Her volatile nature, only hampered by her own fatigue, made her want to grab the young ensign by his shoulders and shake life back into him.  _Keep breathing, Harry. You can’t give up._

“Harry, we’re right here.” Tom’s voice was soft and gentle, as if to make up for his wife’s unpredictable nature. “Hang in there.”

B’Elanna leaned heavily against Tom.  _Words. Inadequate. Useless._ She felt her knees give in and she sat down on the bed, next to Harry’s feet. Unaware of what she was doing, she reached out and caressed the thin leg closest to her. “This can’t be happening. Oh,  _joH'a'_!” She broke down in uncharacteristic, seldom shed tears, unable to hold them back. Blaming her weakened state, she still hated that the hot fury manifested itself in this way. “What did they do to him?”

“They found him hiding in one of the Jeffrey’s tubes, trying to secure the computer against incursion. They shot him twice.” Tom’s face distorted with pain. “The Doctor has done everything he can.”

“He should be in sickbay.”

Chakotay walked over to them, placing a warm hand on B’Elanna’s shoulder. “We’ve told them that, repeatedly. It’s amazing Harry’s hung on this long.” His voice sank to a low whisper. “He hasn’t got much longer.”

“Can’t we smuggle him in there? Sneak him past these bastards? If we create a diversion …” B’Elanna falterer, her body slumping against Tom’s.

“You’re too weak. You shouldn’t have come, honey.” Tom held her gently by the shoulder. “Let me take you back to bed. You need to conserve your strength.”

_Strength?_  It didn’t feel as if she would ever be strong again. B’Elanna obeyed wordlessly, letting Tom guide her towards the door leading out to the remnants of a wooden porch. As they appeared outside, Tom suddenly stopped, gasping at the scene that met them. “Oh, God, Seven!”

B’Elanna stared at the unfathomable sight of the proud, statuesque ex-Borg, walking between two large mercenary like men, restrained by iron shackles. “Seven …” B’Elanna whispered. This woman, once the Klingon had strongly disliked her; now, just as they had found common ground, their love for technology, as well as physically strenuous games in the Holodeck, they may never have a chance to find out what could have come of it. Looking at the tall blonde, B’Elanna knew in her heart, if something happened to Seven, it would be devastating for them all. Seven of Nine, Annika Hansen, was too extraordinary a creature to not be allowed to reach her full potential. Janeway had seen this from the start; it had taken B’Elanna several years.

Seven glanced at them, but did not acknowledge her crewmates. B’Elanna heard Chakotay mutter a curse under his breath. “In shackles, damn it. They don’t know she could break lose with a flick of her wrist.”

“Better they don’t know.” Tom said coldly. “She’s biding her time.”

“She may not have much of that. God knows what that monster is planning for her. He’s keeping her in seclusion for a reason. Look at her. She’s still impeccably dressed in her bio suit.”

B’Elanna looked at her companions. Chakotay had a point. The rest of them were dressed in worn, tattered civilian clothes.

They watched Seven enter Voyager through the large opening to Cargo Bay One. The sun shone on her hair, making her clearly visible one second. The next, she was gone.

Kingas’ reaction to her rank was disturbing. “They’re going to come looking for you,” the alien woman sighed. “No way Masier will stop until he hunts you down.”

Janeway could testify to that.

The rebel leader guided Janeway into a tent like structure, made of sturdy logs and braded and twined leaves. She appreciated the clever idea, and understood the camp was hard to detect, and also easily taken down and relocated, if necessary.

“Here. It’s not the latest fashion, but I think they’ll fit.” Kingas tossed her a pair of grey coveralls.

“Thank you.” Looking down at her uniform, practically torn to shreds, she made a face. “Is it possible to clean up my act somehow? I haven’t washed for … I don’t know how long.” She had tried to keep track of the days and nights, but after the first thirty days, she lost count. A strange fever, still plaguing her, had sent her into a fitful sleep, where she curled, high up in one of the enormous trees.

“Wait, let me look at that.” As if reading her mind, Kingas stared at Janeway’s hands. “You’ve got an infection.”

“I know. I couldn’t get the splinters out after I escaped.”

“Why don’t you take a rain shower and then I’ll tend to those wounds?”

“A rain shower?” Janeway raised an eyebrow.

“We’re not completely uncivilised.” Kingas met the inquisitive glance calmly. “There’s a contraption behind my tent. Get undressed and pull the string twice. You’ll find it cold, but refreshing. There’s an extra towel on a hook and soap on the shelf.”

Taking the coveralls with her, Janeway walked out of the tent, glancing carefully at the men and women sitting around the fire. It was getting dark and she stumbled over roots on her way to the back. Exhausted and feverish, Janeway stepped inside a small cubicle, made out of twined vines and twigs. Removing what was left of her uniform, she gratefully stepped out of the dirty clothes, tossing them along with the underwear on the ground. Stepping under the hose, she pulled the string next to it twice. Cold water streamed down her body, making her gasp as it made every nerve ending recoil in utter shock. Shivering, she reached for the small piece of soap, lathering her thin body, marred with countless bruises. Working quickly, Janeway washed her hair and the rest of her body. Pulling the string once, the water reduced to a fine trickle and then stopped.

The towels did not provide much warmth, being quite small, but she rubbed herself dry and slipped into the uniform. It was hardly comfortable, made of a coarse material resembling ramie fabric.

Returning to Kingas’ tent, Janeway saw the rebel leader had pulled out a med kit and was in the process of sterilising tweezers by holding them over the burning flame of a candle. “Sit. Hold out your hand. Closer to the light.”

Tired beyond belief, Janeway obeyed, amazed at how gentle the other woman’s touch was as she carefully examined the infected areas on Janeway’s hands and lower arms.

“This’ll hurt some.” Kingas pushed the tip of the sharp instrument, resembling tweezers, deep into one of the open wounds, making Janeway cry out involuntarily. Pulling out a long, bloody splinter, pus oozing from the wound, Kingas looked up from her work, triumphantly. “One down, at least six more to go. Can you make it?”

“I think so.” Janeway’s voice was husky as she tried to remain composed.

Kingas pulled out two more before the Janeway began to sway. Quickly, the other woman rose, walking over to the tent opening. “Mirish? Come and give me a hand.”

A young girl entered. Tall and muscular, with black hair hanging in a long braid over her shoulder, she showed remarkable resemblance to Kingas.

“This is Mirish, my sister,” Kingas introduced them briefly. “Mirish, sit behind the captain and hold her arm still. I’m afraid she’ll faint on me and she may fall off the chair. We need to get this over with.”

“Of course.” Gentle arms surrounded Janeway from behind. Unable to resist, she leaned back into the touch, feeling the young woman hold her securely.

“I’m sorry,” Janeway apologised for her weakness.

“No need,” Mirish replied. “It will be over soon.”

When Kingas dug for the last splinter, buried deep just below Janeway’s left thumb, darkness engulfed the captain. The tent, the light from the lamp, and the two women disappeared and she sank back in blissful nothingness.

Far away she heard Mirish’s concerned voice and Kingas’ calm answer, but she was too far gone to care. “Put her on my bed. She’ll be fine.”  
.  
  
---  
  
“ _Regeneration cycle complete.”_  Seven stepped off the regeneration alcove dais, clasping her hands behind her back. The same men, who had escorted her into Cargo Bay two, now held up the shackles at gunpoint.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the fragile iron cuffs, she allowed the man to attach them to her wrists and ankles again. It was humiliating, to be chained like an animal, but the knowledge they were no match for her Borg strength, made it bearable.

To her surprise, they did not take her back to their commander’s house. Instead they moved her in the opposite direction, depriving her of the opportunity to see any of the senior staff again.

“Seven!” A young voice called out, making Seven’s heart twitch and skip several beats.

“No, Naomi! Come back!” Seven recognised Samantha Wildman’s voice, sounding frantic.

Naomi, dressed in unfamiliar garments, ran towards her, stirring up a small cloud of dust from the thin layer of find sand on the tarmac. The girl was completely unaware of the guards aiming their weapons against her.

“Return to your mother, Naomi Wildman!” Seven raised her voice, sounding as stern and intimidating as she could. “Do not approach me again.”

The little girl stopped only a few metres away. “Seven?”

“Go back.” Seven pulled back, almost stumbling within her constraints. “Comply.”

Samantha approached her daughter carefully. “Don’t shoot. She’s just a child. She doesn’t understand.” Her voice was low, pleading. “I’ll take her with me.”

Seven saw the man to her left begin to squeeze the trigger of his disruptor rifle. Turning to him, she shuffled her feet, managing to place herself between him and the girl. “She knows no better. Let us continue.”

Hesitating, the Sidior shrugged, nudging her with his weapon. “Move.”

Not daring to even glance at Naomi who was sobbing Seven’s name behind her, the ex-Borg squared her shoulders and resumed walking. She heard Samantha console the little girl, hoping she could explain to Naomi why Seven could not let on how much the girl meant to her. It would give Masier more leverage.

Seven frowned. They seemed to be heading for the tree line at the far end of the compound. Were they taking her into the jungle?

Janeway kept to the outer perimeter, staying low, the heavy disruptor cannon boring into her shoulder. She knew this operation could have been safer, if carried out in the dark, but as things progressed, they had to act in broad daylight.

At a distance, she saw the barracks where the mercenaries kept her crew. It was impossible to know how many had survived, and she feared many lived had been lost during the two months she had been separated from them.

A sound to her right alerted Janeway, sending her to her knees, hiding. Placing the disruptor cannon on the ground, she stayed low, sheltered by some barrels, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Captain.” Kingas’ voice was close, approaching from behind. “Team Darga called in. Masier is moving the Borg woman.”

_She’s my fiancée, damn it!_ Biting her tongue, Janeway nodded briskly. She had only confided on person regarding the nature of her and Seven’s relationship. They operated on a base of mutual trust, but a small, insistent voice told Janeway to play it safe and keep certain things on a need to know basis.

The Darga team was another group of semi-organised rebels, which, just like Kingas’ crew, lived in the jungle and fought the mercenaries. They kept in touch via an analogue comm system, making it harder for the enemy to track them. The rebels normally worked in independent cells, joining forces only when necessary. This was such an occasion.

_Where the hell are they moving Seven? And why?_  Looking at Kingas’ serious face, Janeway once again had a feeling the rebel knew more than she cared to reveal.

Waking up to a world of a little less pain, Janeway carefully moved her fingers and wrists, relieved to find the aching had receded. Looking around, she found someone--Mirish?—had placed her on a narrow cot in Kingas’ tent. It was empty and from the light filtering through a small crack at the entrance, Janeway surmised she slept through the night.

Rising on unsteady legs, she walked towards the opening, pushing the flap of the tent away. Janeway stepped outside, stunned to see the camp almost abandoned, only two older women left as far as she could see.

“Where is everybody?” Janeway motioned towards the empty tents.

“We have a breakfast stew ready for you, Captain.” One of the women reached for a wooden bowl, scooping up an aromatic, but indefinable substance from a black cast iron pot. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Janeway did not care where the food originated from. Using the spoon the woman gave her, she ate quickly, forcing herself to not let the sweet taste bother her. She had been hungry for a long time, surviving on the strangest of plants. Once she soothed the worst of her hunger, Janeway directed her attention to the women working quietly at mending a leather harness.

“Thank you, this was just what I needed,” Janeway began. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The woman smiled briefly, but shook her head. “No, Captain. Kingas left word. You’re not to be disturbed. You should rest.”

“I’m rested,” Janeway lied. “My name is Kathryn.”

Turning to face her fully, the older woman bowed her head regally. “And I am Konas, Captain.”

Realising Konas was not going to chat informally with her, Janeway still moved closer. “You, Kingas, and Mirish … you’re not Sidiors, are you?”

A hard, almost impenetrable expression shadowed Konas’ face. “We are Samariors. Most of the Sidiors have Samarior blood in their veins, but they choose to ignore it when they imprison our people. They hunt us down. They send the young, the strong, to a place from where we know they will never return.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“When the Great Ice settled on the Soderian Sea, the Sidiors migrated to our nation. This was more than four live lengths ago.” Konas shrugged, the hatred mellowing in her eyes. “They thought they conquered our nation, but they received more than they sought after. They still don’t know how to handle the …”

Konas stopped talking, raising her head. A sudden noise made Janeway flinch and assume a defensive position. Kingas and her crew emerged between the trees, dirty, a couple of them bleeding, but with broad grins on their faces.

“We did it,” Kingas triumphed, sitting down next to Janeway on the fallen tree trunk. “We scouted close to the compound and conducted a full hour surveillance of it. They’re moving a lot of the technology off the ship, but as far as I could see, they’re still keeping the crew in the barracks.”

“Did you get close enough to do a headcount?” Janeway held her breath.

“No, Captain, impossible. Too dangerous. We saw people moving about in civilian clothes, but we’re sure they’re your crewmembers. They look like you.”

“These mercenaries have learned their tactics.” Janeway huffed. “Separate the crew from their leader. Make them doubt if she’s alive. Strip them of their uniforms and their rank insignias; make them a homogeny group, this way, blurring the chain of command. I can only hope that my next in command hasn’t let that happen.”

“Masier’s men are the worst of them all. There are mercenary units all over the nation, but his stands out as one of the best trained … and the cruellest.”

“Physically cruel? Mentally?”

“Both. Masier is not only famous for messing with your head. He also has an intimidating physique and has a reputation for shooting first and asking questions later.”

Janeway knew this was no exaggeration. What little she had seen of Masier that first day, when they were tractor beamed to the planet’s surface, Janeway knew he was a callous type, if there ever was one. The way he had looked at Seven bothered her. She knew instinctively it did not bode well. “Has he ever raped anyone?” Janeway’s eyes narrowed.  _He won’t survive me, if he has._

“I’m not sure he’s above doing something like that, but it’s unlikely, given his reputation. Nah, he’s more of the type to beat the crap out of someone.”

One of the older women extended a hand towards Janeway, handing her a steaming mug of something similar enough to coffee. “We need to eliminate him.”

Kingas smile was broad as the Sidior flashed perfect, sharp teeth. “Well put, Captain, if a little stiff. I’d say we have to shoot that monster like a dog, if we’re going to have a chance to rescue your crew.

“You’re going to help me?”

“We think this is a golden opportunity to rid ourselves of the Masier problem finally.” Kingas smile turned feral. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Janeway’s lips curled back in a snarl. “Perhaps not, but, oh, I can guess.”  
  
---  
  
Seven halted when she saw a group of four mercenaries meet them at the far end of the tarmac. Glancing back at the two escorting her, she raised an eyebrow. “Where are you taking me?”

“It is time,” the older of her guards muttered. “Just keep walking.”

“I will not comply.” Seven squared her shoulders. “I demand to know my destination. Why are you removing me from the compound?”

“You’re hardly in a position to ask questions.” The guard motioned with his chin while shoving the muzzle of his weapon in her lower back. The searing pain was unexpected, almost making Seven’s knees buckle. Regenerating in this erratic pattern, and on a conscious level without proper rest or replenishing, was obviously taking its toll.

She resumed walking, now escorted by six bulky aliens. In between the tall trees, Seven could see the path was rarely used; it was narrow and forced four of the men to bring out sword like knives to cut down smaller branches to make way. There was something in the men’s demeanour, something guarded and resolute, which indicated they were not comfortable with where they were going.

Two of the mercenaries kept an eye on the terrain around them. Using her enhanced vision, Seven saw their weapons were set to kill. Wondered what, or who, they were afraid of running into; she scanned her Borg memory of the planet, but to no avail. As far as her knew, there were no larger predators around.

After about an hour, the men stopped. Two directed their disruptors at Seven while the rest of them did a quick search, before nudging Seven towards a set of tall rocks. Pressing against one of them, it swung aside soundlessly.

Taking an involuntary step back, Seven stared down what looked like a marble lined tunnel. More than three metres high, and just as wide, it reached as far into the rocks, as she could see. Using her Borg enhanced vision; Seven detected an unfamiliar energy reading from deep inside this structure. Disturbed by the data filtering through, she realised it originated from something she, or the Borg, had never come across before.

 


	4. Chapter 4

”I have contacted Dargas’ unit. We’re in consensus. This is an opportunity we cannot dismiss.” Kingas sounded cautiously optimistic. “We haven’t seen Masier this busy, and occupied, in a long time.”

“The fact we have an entire ship’s crew, hostile towards him and his men, is a factor to count on.” Mirish added. “They’re bound to be in a weakened state, though.”

Janeway sat listening to the rebels discuss the current situation. She knew Mirish was right. After two months in captivity, most likely undernourished and mistreated, her crewmembers would be tired and frustrated. The frustration hopefully fuelled their will to fight back. Janeway knew them well enough to realise they were sitting on several plans of escape. The fact they had not implemented any yet, bothered her. That meant something of importance held them back. It made her sick to speculate what this was.

“Dargas operates on the other side of the compound.” Kingas turned to Janeway, interrupting her thoughts. “His scouts have established a pattern, a routine. Masier’s men take the Borg woman to the ship every other day. She stays in there for six hours and then they escort her back to what’s called the Big House. Judging from where the lights go on, he keeps her in the basement. It has only very small windows, impossible to squeeze through. The deliver food to the barracks once a week. Your crew acts in an orderly, restrained fashion when approached by the mercenaries. Dargas had observed one child among the men and women.”

_Naomi. Thank God._ “She’s the only child onboard,” Janeway said huskily. “She was born onboard the ship six years ago. I wonder what she’s thinking …”

Kingas allowed for a few moments to pass before continuing. “Dargas labelled a tall dark male, with remarkable facial adornments, their leader in your absence.”

“Commander Chakotay.” Another one to check off the list. “Any other’s with a special appearance they could identify? A woman with ridges on her forehead? A blue-tinted man? A black man with pointed ears?”

Kingas checked her scribbled piece of paper. “The black man. The blue man.” She raised an eyebrow. “Colourful.” Redirecting her eyes toward the paper, she kept going. “A man with spots and furry face. Numerous similar looking people, indistinguishable from Darga’s distance.

_Neelix._  Janeway’s heart ached with longing. She missed them.  _Oh, Seven …_  Directing her thoughts away from her lover, her fiancée, she rose. “So what’s the plan?”

Blinking, Kingas regarded Janeway cautiously. “Dargas is going to contact us (within) before sunset. He’s an arrogant bastard, but he’ll have a plan ready to launch when he does.” Her tone revealed both admiration and disdain. “I could tell from what he  _didn’t_  say, we don’t have much time.”

“From whose point of view?” Janeway snapped. “Yours? My crew’s?”

Glancing towards her sister, Mirish lowering her gaze in contemplation, Kingas made a face. “It’s spring. Six double-lunar circles have passed. I’d say we’re all running out of time. Masier’s men are going to act soon, and Dargas implied he more or less had guessed what’s going on.”

“And?” Janeway folded her arms over her chest.

“We think they may have chosen the Borg woman.” Kingas shook her head sorrowfully. “I think this woman means something special to you. You have our condolences.”

Mirish, the softer of the sisters, despite her intimidating appearance, rose and walked up to Janeway. “Is the Borg woman of your family?”

Uncertain how much she ought to reveal, Janeway cleared her throat. “She’s my partner.”

“Your wife?”

“One day soon, I hope.” Janeway felt the engagement ring, a simple titanium band, encircling the ring finger on her left hand.

“Then, you are going to have to work with us. And quickly.” Kingas joined them. “We suspect they have chosen the Borg woman, your partner, for this Lunar Cycle Sacrifice.”

B’Elanna felt stronger after her first careful meal in weeks. Chakotay had brought the Doctor online for only ten minutes, enough for the sparsely built man to scan her quickly and look in on Harry. B’Elanna wished there had been enough energy for him to return and let them know how Harry was doing. Having been given the go ahead to begin digesting a clear soup, the Klingon-hybrid now wiped her mouth on her sleeve, since napkins was a luxury they simply didn’t have. “I’m full,” she announced, giving Neelix a quick smile as he fetched her half empty bowl.

“So, tell me,” she began, studying the expressions of the three men sitting together with her at the table. “What plans have you considered?”

Chakotay didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “We have several, but they all fall apart for the same reasons. We have fourteen dying members of this crew, including Harry. If we move according to plan, they’ll be left behind. That’s not what Voyager’s all about.”

_One for all, and all for one._  B’Elanna nodded. She knew this. It was what kept them all sane, while travelling in this hostile part of space. “So, we wait for them to die, so they don’t die alone.” Her voice hollow, she reached for Tom’s hand. “We wait, and we watch.”

“That’s not all we’re doing, love,” Tom reassures her. “We’ve carefully mapped the guard’s movements and schedule. You have to give it to these monsters. They are extremely punctual. The first deviation from their plans was today when they kept walking Seven in the wrong direction. Usually they take her straight for the main house where their leader resides.”

“Yes, it is of great concern,” Tuvok stated. “Darkness will fall within the hour.”

B’Elanna frowned. “Is there any possibility we can send someone to follow them?”

“We’ve thought of it.” Chakotay rested his chin on his knuckles. “Masier’s men have been edgy for a couple of days, paying less attention to us, and more towards the perimeter.”

“What do you think is going on?” B’Elanna asked.

“I have no clue,” the commander continued. “All I know is, Masier has posted almost twice as many guards, but not watching us. It looks like they’re protecting the base from something in the jungle.”

“He must have enemies.”

“It appears to be more than that.” Tuvok leaned forward, lacing his fingers. “I detect a strong surge of uneasiness permeating this base. No question, it is an enemy, but something tells me, it is an enemy of great magnitude.”

B’Elanna shivered, pulling the blanket Tom had put around her earlier, closer. “It sounds so ominous.”

Tuvok nodded solemnly. “It is.”

The guards had increased their speed with two point three-one kilometres per hour since they entered the curious hidden tunnel. Gazing around, her Borg optical implant detected the walls consisted of unusual mix of a dense volcanic glass, resembling obsidian, and an alien metallic alloy, which would make it practically impossible to scan from the outside.

“Where are you taking me?” It was worth a try.

“Keep walking.”

Pressing her full lips to a thin line, Seven complied, running several scans via her optical implant, as they walked further and further into what had to be primary rock by now. There was no light ahead and Seven’s implant didn’t detect anything until another twenty minutes later. As they approached what looked like a solid wall, she noticed the guards’ respiration and perspiration increase.  _They are afraid._  This did not bode well for her. If the heavily armed mercenaries showed fear, an unarmed woman, regardless of her superior strength, stood a slim chance of defending herself.

“Stop. Wait.” The first guard on her left raised a hand, adding weight to his words. He felt around inside the neckline of his uniform, pulling out what looked like a black square, made of glass.

_Perhaps of the same obsidian like glass that make up these walls._ Seven focused on what the man was doing. His hands trembled faintly as he pressed the square piece of glass into a barely visible indention in the wall ahead of them.

At first nothing happened, but the mercenaries stood still, waiting patiently. Then there was a low hum, and effortlessly, the wall gave way. Breaking into four pieces, each part pulled aside in a forty-five degree angle, disappearing into the rock.

Seven looked inside the large cave, lit up brightly with a multitude of small lights, the size of diodes. They covered the uneven walls, the ceiling, and most of the floor, making her squint before her optical implant adjusted. The only place where the light was not as bright was in the middle.

She swallowed hard. In the centre of the cave, stood a table. She began to understand some of what was awaiting her. This was to be her final destination on this godforsaken planet.  _Kathryn._  
.  
  
---  
  
“We need you to blow up the ammunition depot.” Dargas, a tall, dark skinned man of the same race as Kingas, spoke forcefully, his sharp eyes locked on Janeway. “You will head for your ship and fire up its torpedoes. We need all the fire power we can get our hands on, if we are to succeed.”

Janeway regarded him calmly. “And how do you suggest I do that? You just said they increased security.

“Yes. Outward, facing the jungle. You’ll be attacking from the inside.”

“And how do I get inside?”

“The sewer.” He grinned, showing remarkably white teeth. “You have to crawl. You’ll fit. You’re a skinny woman.”

Not insulted in the least, Janeway rolled her eyes. “And where will I end up, following the sewer? Do I get a map, or do I guess?”

It seemed that her calm, slightly sarcastic tone was finally getting to him. A formidable sight with his shaved head and a black eye patch over his left eye, he pivoted, glaring at Kingas. “Is she with us or not? I thought you said she was!”

“She is. Give her a break, Dargas. You’re about to send her into a  _codola’s_ den without much of an explanation and hardly any backup. Once she’s inside, she’s on her own.” The rebel leader swatted the tall man over the head. “Oh, don’t give me that. She has to know what’s at stake, for her, for her crew—and for us. How the hell is she going to do what it takes if she doesn’t?”

Dargas stopped in mid-motion, his hand on the large dagger attached to his belt. “Don’t hit me again, woman. It might be the last thing you do.”

Kingas smiled brightly, apparently unaffected by the threat. “Deal. Now, Captain, here’s a sketch of how their sewer system is built. You follow this route. Kingas traced a path with her finger and Janeway memorised the way that would bring her closer to her crew, and to Seven. “Once you get here,” Kingas pointed at a specific structure on the map, “you’re in their weapon’s stockroom. You want to grab the biggest thing there, an over the shoulder photon missile launcher, and a belt of ammo. Once you have everything, you make your way outside. I know it’ll be risky, since it’ll still be light out. Keep following the west perimeter until we make contact. One of us will help you fire as many missiles as possible toward their ammunition depot, as well as the Big House. Here.” Kingas pointed at the sketch again. “When you’re out of ammo, our man …” Mirish interrupted her sister by kicking her. “… or woman,” Kingas continued, unfazed, “will return to the jungle, after assisting you in getting onboard your ship.”

“I could use a pair of extra hands onboard Voyager,” Janeway commented. “It’s not all that easy to fire her up, with a crew of one. There may be mercenaries onboard, and I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.”

Kingas eyes darted between Dargas and Mirish. “Very well, we can make do minus one fighter. Of course, you’ll be armed the entire time, with a handheld weapon. You never know whom you might run into.”

Janeway felt a sudden rush of adrenalin. “When will this go down?”

Kingas took a deep breath. “We would need more time to prepare, but we don’t have that luxury. Tomorrow.”

_Tomorrow._ Janeway clasped her hands, resting them in her lap. “Tomorrow’s fine with me.”

“It is a matter of hours, now,” the Doctor said, after moving the medical tricorder over Harry Kim’s body. “I’ve infused him with as much fluids as is possible via a crude tube, but it’s not doing him any good, I’m afraid.”

B’Elanna could feel Tom swallow hard as his larynx moved next to her temple. “Hours, Doc?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“How about the others?” Chakotay inquired. B’Elanna knew the crew risked everything to smuggle the mobile emitter between the barracks.

“In the barracks hosting the crewmen, we’ve lost two today.” The Doctor dragged a hand over his face. “Crewmen Mark Leonard and Ling Xiaofei.”

“I knew Xiaofei.” B’Elanna said, her voice cracking. “The kid was only twenty-four. She had her whole life ahead of her.”

“Shhh. You’ll get ill again, love.” Tom held her tight.

“But … “

“In the ensigns’ barracks, we lost Ensign Samak.”

Casting a glance at Tuvok, she saw the commander press his lips together for a second to hear the news of another Vulcan’s death.

“He will be remembered.” His voice was non-committal.

“The rest of them, just like Ensign Kim here, are in critical condition. We have eleven dying people on our hands and there is very little, nothing, in fact, that we can do about it. I suggest you take me off line for now and only use me when I actually can be of any assistance.”

B’Elanna’s temper flared. “You can help them now! You can provide them with some sort of pain relief. You can do something!”

His voice stark, the Doctor shook his head. “No, Lieutenant. I can’t.”

Tom’s arms held her back when she tried to break free to throttle the stubborn hologram. Then she saw something she never thought possible, something so extraordinary, she slumped back against Tom’s chest with a thud.

Down the Doctor’s cheeks ran two crystal clear, holographic tears. Perfect, wet, with the exact same speed, they traced the forlorn look on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Doc,” B’Elanna whispered, awestruck and sorrowful. “Of course, you’re right.”

Walking up to the woman, the Doctor cupped her chin carefully in the palm of his hand. “Believe me, B’Elanna,” he murmured. “I wish I wasn’t.”  
  
---  
  
_The skin beneath her lips was damp, hot, and moved with her caresses. Janeway kissed her way from Seven’s long neck, down to deceptively fragile collarbones, out towards her lover’s right shoulder. Slipping down, she trailed the starburst implant on Seven’s biceps with her tongue, making Seven whimper out loud._ _"Kathryn!"_

_"Yes, darling?"_

_"You are burning me with you lips."_

_"Good." Laughing huskily against the velvety skin, Janeway kept up her maddening caresses, knowing full well what they did to Seven. When she moved quickly to the right, taking a plump, pink nipple between her teeth, the startled gasp reaffirmed her assumption. She had Seven exactly where she wanted her._

_In bed, Beneath her. Legs spread wide to accommodate her new fiancée._

_"Doesn’t making love when you are engaged give it a completely new dimension?"_ _Janeway asked in a conversational tone of voice._

_"Hm? I am not certain. Yes. Perhaps."_

_Laughing around the taut nipple, Janeway found Seven’s obvious distraction endearing. She flicked her tongue over the nipple, teasing it into a rock hard peak. Seven arched beneath her and dug her cybernetic hand into auburn tresses of hair, pulling Janeway closer._

_"Kathryn!"_

_"Tell me what you need, darling."_

_"I need you to make love to me," Seven answered readily. The honest reply sent surges of pleasure through the captain, making her own wetness gather between her legs._

_"And love you I will." Kissing her way down towards the blonde tuft of hair, Janeway became ferocious. Her mouth wide open, she wanted to devour Seven completely. Her hands, careful despite her urgency, parted the tender folds between Seven’s thighs. Janeway’s eyes narrowed at the sight of her lover’s pink, fragile sex. Slowing down, she merely lapped at it, now close to reverent by the gift that was granted her._

_She would never get tired of tasting Seven and ..._

A hand shook her shoulder vigorously. “Time to move out, Captain.”

Stirred out of her wistful dream, Janeway sat up on the cot, angry because it was just that, a dream, and regretful that it was over. “I’m ready.”

Outside, the camp buzzed with activity as the rebels armed themselves and gathering small packages of food. Mirish came up to Janeway, giving the captain half a smile. “I’ll be waiting for you. Just stick to the plan. We’ll get these bastards once and for all.”

_Nothing like a little pressure._ Janeway nodded briskly. “So you’re to be my contact once I’ve obtained the weapon?”

“Yes. I didn’t want anyone else to take on the responsibility.” Kingas joined them, replying in Mirish’s place. “Mirish knows every nook and hideout on that base.”

“How’s that?” Janeway turned her attention back to Mirish.

“Don’t ask.” Mirish face darkened. “Believe me. You don’t want to know.”

They headed out at the crack of dawn, avoiding major trails through the jungle. If they were following some sort of path, Janeway couldn’t see it. She walked behind Kingas, focusing on not having branches hit her face. She knew the leader could not use her machete to cut off the offending brushes, since this would reveal their route to the enemy, should they happen upon it.

After two hours of walking, Kingas stopped. “Here’s where we go our separate ways, Captain.” She pointed in a ninety degree angle. Go due west. You’ll know when you're getting closer to the base. The jungle will become less dense. Anako here will go with you. She’ll also guard the entrance of the sewer until she estimates you have made it through to the structure. Then she will double back to a rendezvous with us.”

Janeway regarded Anako, a small, thin young girl with latte coloured skin and black, short cropped hair. Her pointed ears laid flat against her skull, rendering her a fawn like appearance. Some of her doubt must have shown on her face, because Anako opened her vest made of some course fabric, showing off an impressive arsenal of grenades and handheld weapons.

“All right. See you later.” Janeway began walking, Anako falling in behind her.

It took then less than fifteen minutes to find the concrete square with an iron lid. It was locked with an enormous padlock. “Don’t worry, Captain. I’m on it.” Anako grinned, sticking her hand in one of her many pockets, pulling out a grey mass with a small red device attached to it. “A silence blaster. Step back.”

Janeway walked behind a sturdy trunk of a tree and soon Anako joined her, a broad grin on her face. “It won’t make much noise, but I still love blowing things up,” she confessed. There was a hissing sound, followed by a muted thud. “That’s it. All done.” Anako peeked around the trunk. “Clear. We didn’t attract anyone’s attention. You’re next, Captain.”

Janeway moved quickly over to the slightly distorted lid of the concrete structure, wondering just how much explosive matter young Anako had used. Opening it, she groaned inwardly at the stench.  _Well, they did say it was a sewer. Just think of it as any other tunnel. Get a grip now._  There was no time for sensitivities. Janeway nodded toward Anako. “Get back safely, kid,” she ordered. “Don’t stay here, if it gets dicey, all right?”

The girl grinned. “But I like dicey, Captain.” Janeway’s scowl made rendered the other woman serious. “All right, I promise.” She hesitated for a moment before speaking again, her amber eyes several shades darker. “Ward off the  _Shantari_  on your journey.”

The ritualistic way Anako spoke made Janeway stop in mid motion. “What?”

A quick smile came and went on the young girls face. “Ah, just a saying, Captain, to wish you luck.”

“Well, thank you, then.” Janeway swung her feet over the edge, locating the narrow iron ladder that led down into the sewer system. Somehow she doubted Anako’s way of shrugging off the ‘saying’.  _Ward of the Shantari? Who the hell are they? Another branch of bastards?_

Anako’s words had carried a definite ominous tone.

 


	5. Chapter 5

”Step up on the dais.” The muzzle of a disruptor weapon shoved Seven in the back. Refusing to let the searing pain show, as the rifle hit almost directly on one of the sockets used to connect her to the alcove, the ex-Borg raised her foot.

The shackles were too short for her to enter the fifty centimetre high podium, and she looked disdainfully at the men. “It is not possible.”

The mercenary closest to her muttered under his breath, handing over his weapon to one of the others and knelt beside her. Seven could have easily taken him out with a well aimed kick, but refrained from it, well aware the others would fire immediately.

Freed from the foot shackles, she stepped up on the dais and looked around. As soon as the five of them stepped in the room, the diodes had altered colour, turning to a soft mauve. Seven’s optical implant measured the room to be twenty-five square metres. There was five metres to the ceiling, which rendered the room an almost sacral ambiance.

“Place your feet on the markings.” The man before her nudged her impatiently.”

Seven gazed down on the dais, which was made from the same obsidian like glass as the walls. In the middle of the circular surface were glimmering markings, looking like alien scribbling. Placing her feet upon them, Seven was startled when two poles came up out of the floor, flanking her.

Two of the men grabbed her wrists and removed the handcuffs. Pulling them out from her body, they fastened them onto the poles with the help of a locking mechanism, which Seven was fairly sure she would not be able to break. When they were done, it appeared as if her hands had become one with the glass poles.

Without saying anything else, the men now hastily withdrew, moving toward the door.

“Why are you leaving me here?” Seven demanded to know.

There was no response. The men kept walking, holding their weapons in a defensive position.  _What are they afraid of?_

“What will happen?” she demanded to know, fear and anger battling for dominance. The thought of the large door leading into the room closing behind them, made her tremble. “Answer me!”

Without even glancing back toward her, the men left the room.

The four pieces of opaque glass slid close with a dull thunder and with that, all the diodes switched off. Seven was left alone in complete darkness.

“No!”

***

“Where’s Mirish?” Janeway hid behind some barrels, pressing her back against two crates, stacked on top of each other.

“She’s waiting at your rendezvous point. She knows when to stay low.” Kingas leaned to the left, peering towards the tarmac. “Things are happening faster than we predicted. Seems Masier’s acting in a bit of a panic this time.”

“What do you mean, ‘this time’?” Pulling the weapon towards her, Janeway got ready to move when the opportunity came.

“Six lunar cycles ago, when the Shantari came to claim their sacrifice, Masier was close to creating a disaster for himself and his men. Pity he didn’t. Anyway,” Kingas sighed, “this time he seems to take every precaution to do it right.”

“What are you talking about? Who are the Shantari? And what happens every six lunar cycles?”

Kingas frowned. “I really don’t have time to explain it to you right now.”

“But you’re going to,” Janeway growled. Leaning forward, she grabbed a fistful of the other woman’s coverall, pulling her closer. “Speak quickly. I’m not moving until you do.”

Looking as she was about to launch at Janeway, Kingas drew a deep breath. “Very well. When our two moons are aligned, which they do every six lunar cycles, we have, for as long as our people can remember, sacrificed to the  _Shantari._  There are many stories of how it was done, which are told from one generation to the next.”

“What kind of sacrifices?” Dread filled Janeway’s chest, making her rib case rigid around her lungs.

“Samarian sacrifice, of course.”

“What? You sacrificed humanoids?”

Kingas face hardened. “We weren’t barbarians, like Masier and his men. The Samarians sacrificed only the ones who received the proper education and training for it. We only offered our best to the Shantari. It wasn’t a punishment. It was completely voluntary and an honour.”

“And nowadays? What method does Masier and his men use, since they almost screwed things up last time?”  _In and out. Keep breathing._

“The Sidiors have made a mockery of our traditions for many solar cycles. They take one of their prisoners and try to pass them off as fit for a Shantari sacrifice. Last time, they killed a woman, and left her body in the Chamber. Had not Dargas and his crew corrected Masier’s mistake, by fetching the corpse and replacing it, the Shantari … “ Kingas paled. “We have to move. We don’t have much time.”

“Wait! Replaced the corpse with what?”  _Is this what’s happening to Seven? Oh, God …_

A sorrowful expression flickered over Kingas’ face. “A living individual, Captain.”

“Who?” Janeway whispered. “Who could Darga do such a thing to?”

“Darga could not force anyone else to go, that’s not how it works, and also this would’ve made him no better than Masier and his men. He volunteered, but someone else disagreed, stepping up to the task, claiming without Darga, their entire cell of rebels would fall apart.” Pressing her lips together, the other woman’s eyes burned coldly. “Dorma, his younger brother replaced the dead woman. They buried her in the jungle, close to the old temple ruins. She wasn’t the first one we’ve buried there. Masier and his men never go there.”

Kingas carefully leaned forward, checking the tarmac. “It’s clear. Come on.”

Janeway grabbed the heavy weapon, her knees almost buckling as she rose. Hurrying behind Kingas, she moved toward the rendezvous spot. “Why did you come and get me?”

Calmer now, Kingas flashed her a quick grin. “I have to go with you and Mirish since Masier reassigned his men unexpectedly. I was concerned since you’re slightly off schedule.”

Janeway knew Kingas was right. It had taken her longer than estimated to reach the weapon’s depot. “Are the others in position?”

“All but the ones on Darga’s team who are covering the Big House. They haven’t reported in yet.”

“In what direction has Masier taken Seven?”

“Towards the far end of the compound.” Kingas gestured. “It’s where the path to the Chamber is located.”

Hoisting the weapon onto her shoulder, Janeway operated on pure adrenalin. “You’re right. We can’t afford to waste any time. Let’s go.”

***

B’Elanna sat on the narrow wooden porch outside of the barracks. She could not stand being inside in the dusty, dark rooms. The thought of Harry, of his life energy as a flickering, dying flame, made her ache.

“Hey, sweetheart? You’re getting cold.” Tom approached with yet another torn blanket. “Here.”

Strangely annoyed with him tending to her, when Harry needed every single ounce of their resources, she accepted his offer. “Thanks. It’s getting darker, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Tom straightened and sniffed the air. “Can you smell that? Phosphorous?”

B’Elanna inhaled deeply through her nose. “Yes. Smells like before a thunderstorm.”

“I’ve never sensed this before.” Tom turned as the door opened behind him. Chakotay and Tuvok joined them on the porch, Tuvok immediately smelling the air as well.

“This is curious,” he offered. “This reminds me of Vulcan. This planet is quite Earth like, but now the atmosphere is faintly yellow tinted, and highly ionised. I think we can expect a storm, perhaps even a plasma storm.”

“Where are Masier’s guards?” Tom suddenly asked, pointing towards the end of the tarmac before them. “What the hell’s going on? They were right there only half an hour ago.”

“He’s moved a lot of them to guard the perimeter,” Chakotay mused, leaning against the railing. “We have to take advantage of this.”

“What do you mean?” B’Elanna sat up straight in the chair.

“If we can get anyone onboard Voyager, we could bring back equipment for Harry,” Tom stated. “There might still be a chance.”

“The way things look; we may even be able to bring Harry onboard Voyager. He would stand a greater chance in sickbay.” Tuvok’s voice was as hopeful as it was possible for Vulcan.

“Plan HK 2, then?” Tom grinned nervously. “It’s now or never. I feel it.”

“We should send someone in the direction they took Seven as well,” B’Elanna suggested. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sight of her in shackles.” The proud ex-Borg.  _It was just …wrong._

Squinting in the phosphorous, fading daylight, Chakotay only hesitated for a few seconds before he nodded in agreement. “I agree. We’ve been cautious long enough. For all we know, they’re keeping us here to sell as slaves, or until they can dispose of us another way.” He stood, folding his hands across his chest. “All right, people, let’s do it. B’Elanna, you’re too weak to move very far, but we need you on Voyager. Can you walk the distance?” He motioned towards Voyager, creating alluring skyline in the distance. “It’s about six hundred metres.”

“I can do it.” B’Elanna swallowed hard, praying to  _Kahless_  she had not promised too much.

“Very well. Tom, get Neelix. He’s strong, and together you can carry the stretcher with Harry. Bring the mobile emitter and hook it up to the Doctor’s desk. Let’s pray they didn’t loot that as well.”

“Yes, sir,” Tom replied smartly, a new energy in his voice. “We can still transfer the Doctor’s program, even if his desk is gone.”

“All right. I’ll team up with Tuvok, and see if I can alert Alaya and a few of the other security guards. We’ll make an attempt to reach the other side of the compound. Let’s go.”

B’Elanna accepted Tom’s hand to get out of the chair, but let go quickly, feeling her features hardening at her attempt on standing on her own.  _There can’t be weakness now. Harry’s life depends on it._

***

Mirish waited for them behind some half burned down barracks, looking relieved. “I thought I was going to have to come and fetch you. What? What’s happened?” Her bright eyes darkened and she turned to her sister, grabbing her by the arm. “Kingas?”

“I had to explain to the captain what the  _Shantari_ tradition entails.”

“And what the Sidiors have turned it into.” Janeway’s voice was cold. “Let’s get the job done.”

Mirish sent her sister another questioning look, but then shrugged and reached for the weapon. “We have to work fast,” she stated. “Once the missiles detonate, there is going to be initial confusion, but Masier’s scanning devices will soon track where the fire’s coming from. Then we’ll be toast, if we’re not out of here.”

Janeway and Kingas lined up six of the missiles, flipping the switches on them to remove the safety feature. “We’re ready.”

“Me too, in just a tiny moment,” Mirish murmured, calibrating the sight of the missile launcher. “The recoil is going to be bad. I suggest Kingas support me from behind and you keep loading the launcher, Captain.”

“Very well.” Janeway got in position, forcing the thoughts of what Kingas just told her, out of her mind. If there was a chance to rescue Seven and the rest of her crew, she wasn’t going to screw it up by not being focused. She loaded the first missile, a plump object with a narrow looking tail, into the back of the barrel, then closed the small hatch. She flipped a red switch, knowing from Kingas’ briefing in the camp that a red light now showed up in the sights’ peripheral field of vision. “Ready.”

“Aiming. Launch!” Mirish pulled the small handle underneath the launcher, and there was a muted hissing sound, but not much noise from the weapon.

A few seconds later an enormous explosion turned the first ammunition and weapon’s storage into flames. A small, black mushroom cloud rose to the sky above it.

Janeway pulled the hatch open, inserted the next missile, repeating the procedure. “Ready!”

“Aiming. Launch!” This time, Mirish was barely able to remain on her feet as the missile went on a steeper trajectory, taking out the second ammunition storage. Alarm klaxons began to howl, a husky, strained sound coming from several places. Men began to fill the tarmac, all of them armed.

“Ready!”

Mirish spread her legs, to stand firmer, while Kingas took a steady grip of her sister’s shoulders. “Aiming. Launch!” Another supply room was destroyed seconds later, and the smoke billowing from it suggested it was full of highly flammable materials.

“We’re not blowing up anything poisonous, or dangerous in some other way, are we?” Janeway yelled above the Klaxon’s.

“No! We have time for one more, and then we have to run for Voyager while they’re still confused.” Kingas motioned with her chin towards the missile in Janeway’s hands.

Quickly, Janeway loaded the launcher again. Mirish took aim, the muscles in the young woman’s arms tensing up, before she called out her words of warning again. This time she sent one of the mercenary shuttle crafts, parked behind a long, narrow hangar, into small pieces of debris that perforated two other shuttles, rendering them useless.

“That’s it. Run!”

They dropped the weapon where they stood; trying to bring the launcher with them would only slow them down. Running through smoke, staying low behind crates and barrels, they moved towards the barely visible contour of Voyager.

“You lead the way, Captain,” Kingas panted. “We’re going to be on your turf soon.” She pulled up a small, black box from her pocket as she ran. “Kingas to Dargas.”

“ _Dargas here_.” The Samarian man’s voice was strong behind the crackling static and the klaxons. “ _I see Sidiors running around like headless **chichas**. Good job._ ”

“Glad you approve. I’ll let you know when we’ve boarded the ship. Is the perimeter broken yet?”

“ _Not yet, but it’s going to be. Soon_.” Dargas sounded feral. “ _Dargas, out._ ”

The three women reached the last of the protective structures. Kingas stopped, holding up her hand to alert the other two. “Two Sidiors, straight ahead,” she whispered. “I don’t think they can see us through the smoke, but from now on, there’s nothing to hide behind. Someone’s bound to have found where we fired from by now.”

Janeway squinted from the smoke, taking the handheld weapon she took from the storage. Setting it to kill, she looked down on the heavy disruptor, so unlike Starfleet streamlined phasers. “I’ll take the one to the left,” she informed the others and moved forward.

“Damn, there she goes,” she heard Kingas mutter behind her. “Come on!”

The women took the two guards completely by surprise. The men raised their weapons, only to stagger backwards when fired upon, and fall to the ground as if slain by a giant’s hand. Janeway stared down at the somewhat crude disruptor for a second, amazed at its firepower, before taking the lead again.

The guards had stood beneath the ramp leading up to the large opening in Voyager’s rear, though to her shuttle bay. Looking up, Janeway saw no movement, nor could she hear anything over the alarm klaxons. “Clear,” she yelled at Kingas and Mirish, who dragged the two men behind the ramp, out of plain view.

Running up the ramp, Janeway sat foot on her vessel for the first time in more than two months.

***

The darkness only lasted two point five three minutes, but it was still unnerving. When the diodes lit up again, now in a faint pink colour, she exhaled mutedly in relief. It was one of her childhood terrors, being afraid of the vast darkness of space. She did not know if she had been afraid of the dark before her parents took her on the long journey into Borg space. If she was not, at least she still had flashbacks from her room onboard the Raven, of lying there, listening to her parents arguing, working, doing many things, but tending to their daughter.

Accustomed to standing, preferring it, it did not bother her to remain upright between the dark glass poles. She examined the area where her hands were attached. Tentatively, she tugged them towards her, but to no avail. Her optical implant could not even find the crack in the glass where it opened when the men restrained her.

There was a faint hum, probably from the diodes, and it rose and fell almost imperceptibly. Rolling her shoulders, she tried to not become tense, since it would drain on her energy levels unnecessarily. As she did that, her mind relaxed as well, and the image of Kathryn flickered before her.  _Kathryn. My love._ She had asked Masier every day, for the last sixty-two days, where her captain was. She made a point of asking about everyone among the senior crew, not to draw attention to the fact that Kathryn meant more to her than anyone else. Masier, she deemed was a lesser individual, lacking in greatness, and in compassion, in fact, she did not see any valid reason for his existence whatsoever. He never answered. Not about the crew, not about Kathryn.

Walking between the guards towards Voyager, she would spot crewmembers at a distance, pass them by, but she never dared acknowledge any of them, in case the guards reported it to Masier. A callous man like him, he would not hesitate to use someone to state an example or prove a point. When Naomi Wildman ran up to her, she had scared Seven badly. She had seldom experienced such rapid fear. It was if her heart was about to evacuate her body through her mouth. No matter now it hurt her, to treat Naomi like she was nobody, no one particular to her, it was all Seven could do. The truth was she loved the little girl almost as much as she loved Kathryn.

Refusing to cry at the thought of the ones she most likely would never see again, Seven again tugged her hands toward her. It hurt her human hand, and the left, which should have easily broken free, could not move or break the pole.

Closing her eyes, despite her fear of the darkness only a moment ago, she inhaled the unusual scent of the room. Dusty, yes, but also with a distinctive fragrance, of some flower perhaps, or herb. It was not a strong scent, but it was there.

_What is going to happen to me? Will I ever see Kathryn again? Is she alive? She has to be …_ Seven sobbed, but would not resort to tears.  _Surely, I would sense if she was dead?_

Opening her eyes, Seven blinked repeatedly. Angry, frightened, and with an escalating feeling of despair, she began to shiver. Tossing her head back, she cried out, her voice echoing in the tall, square room with the now pale blue diodes.

“KATHRYN!”

***

 


	6. Chapter 6

“What the hell’s going on?” Tom Paris raised his voice over the howling klaxons. “Are they under attack? Are we?” He struggled to keep the stretcher with Harry Kim’s unconscious body level.

“We have to keep moving,” B’Elanna gasped, the pain in her side making it almost impossible to speak. “So far they haven’t spotted us.” Glancing back at Neelix, she was encouraged by the sturdy Talaxian carrying the other end of the stretcher.

They had just begun their dangerous mission of transporting Harry to Voyager when a series of explosions shook the ground, smoke billowing all around them. Realising the smoke hid them; they had ignored the risk of inhaling it as they moved as fast as possible for the now more or less obscured ship.

Looking down at the pale face on the stretcher, B’Elanna’s eyes narrowed. “Wait!” she called out, her eyes darting back and forth as she looked for any signs of life in Harry. “He’s not breathing!”

They stopped in the middle of the tarmac, the smoke still cloaking them. B’Elanna ignored her own pain and leaned over Harry. “Come on, Starfleet,” she whispered before pinching his nose together. She blew into his mouth twice. Harry did not move. B’Elanna repeated the manoeuvre. Harry’s body tensed and he gave a choked sound. “All right, he’s breathing, but barely,” B’Elanna shouted. “Let’s move!”

She couldn’t run, but walked as fast as her weakened body allowed. The pain in her back and ribs made her head spin, but Harry’s life was at stake and there was no way she was going to give up on him.

They reached the ramp leading up to Voyager’s shuttle bay. Huddling behind two large crates, they squinted through the smoke coming and going with the wind. “Where the hell is everyone?” Tom asked. “No guards anywhere. I don’t like this.”

“There’s no time for a break anyway,” Neelix urged. “Harry’s hardly breathing. Come on, good people!”

B’Elanna shook her head. “You go on. I have to rest. I can’t move, but I’ll catch up with you. Get Harry to sickbay.”

“I have a better idea.” Tom pulled out an item from his pocket. Pressing a small button on a futuristic device, he produced a sparse looking, semi-bald man.

“State the nature of …” The Doctor caught himself. “B’Elanna. Tom. Neelix. What’s going on?” He stared down at Harry for a few second. “Have you moved him? Are you crazy?”

“Stop chattering, Doc. You have to carry B’Elanna. We need to get these two into sickbay.”

“Sickbay?” The Doctor took another two seconds to take in the situation. “Let’s go.”

B’Elanna felt strong arms around her. The holographic man picked her up, one gentle arm around her back, one under her knees. “You’ll be fine, Lieutenant.”

So many times she had yelled at this man, this wonder of a hologram.  _And now I could kiss him. I truly love every single member of this crew._  B’Elanna hid her face against the Doctor’s neck. “Thank you,” she whispered, not sure he could hear her over the noise.

“You’re welcome,” the Doctor murmured, his voice reverberating through her chest.

Soon the familiar surroundings of Voyager met them as they reached the top of the ramp. Tom and Neelix panting hard while they struggled with the stretcher. “Still no guards,” Tom reported. “Computer. How many bio signatures are onboard?” There was no response from the main computer. “Computer. Run diagnostic of the mainframe.” Still nothing. “Oh, well. Better keep moving.”

They ran through the corridor, Harry’s body now still and white. Stopping by a turbo lift, Neelix punched in commands into the console. “It’s working.”

“You can let me down,” B’Elanna suggested, moving in the Doctor’s arms. “I can walk.”

“You’re fine. Just relax, Lieutenant.” The Doctor held her tight. “Conserve your strength. We will soon need your services.”

Finding it easier to obey for the moment, B’Elanna looked at Tom. “At least we’re home,” she sighed. “As it is.” Tom nodded solemnly, and for the first time, B’Elanna noticed the changed expression on his face. Her boyish lover seemed to have turned into a serious, aged man. “How’s Harry?”

“He’s breathing, but that’s about it,” Neelix replied.

The turbo lift doors opened and they stepped inside. Neelix punched in new commands while Tom tilted the stretcher to accommodate for the length of it, B’Elanna watched Harry’s slumped body with concern. “He’s not falling off, is he?”

“No, we strapped him onto it pretty good,” Tom assured her, tipping Harry’s head back. “Damn it, he’s in bad shape.”

The Doctor put B’Elanna down, and moved closer to Harry. “His heart can’t take much more of this.”

“ _Deck four_.” The computer’s unexpected voice startled all of them. The door opened and Tom and Neelix manoeuvred the stretcher while the Doctor stuck his head outside. “Looks clear. No aliens.”

The group made their way to the doors leading into sickbay. “Computer, unlock and open.” When there was no response, the Doctor had to use the emergency handles kept behind a small hatch in the wall to pry them open.

B’Elanna kept her fingers on the fluttering carotid pulse on Harry’s neck. His skin was cold and clammy to the touch, but the thing scaring her most of all was the bluish tint to his pale complexion. The men placed the stretcher on a bio bed while the Doctor searched the looted room for any type of medical equipment available. “They have not left much,” he scolded. Moments later, he found a medical tricorder on the floor behind a work console. The Doctor approached the main biobed. “Get him off the stretcher. I think the biobed is intact and I need him on it in order to get proper readings.”

Tom and Neelix rushed to follow his instructions. B’Elanna wanted to help, but was forced to find a stool to sit down, her legs giving in again.

After scanning Harry, the Doctor’s hands moved faster, plucking among the medical equipment at his disposal. “He’s electrolytes are low, his vital signs are failing and there is not one organ operating normally.”

“Can you do anything?” Neelix paled and leaned hard against the bed. “It can’t be too late.”

“I’m not sure we got him here in time,” the EMH sighed, “but I’ll do anything I can.” He punched in commands into the biobed, sending an arch up over Harry’s chest. “The ventilator will assist his breathing, and put less strain on his heart, keeping him saturated with O2. In the meantime, I need a hypo spray and several vials of saline, potassium, and TPN.”

Tom nodded. He moved over to the counter, pulling out drawers. A relieved look on his face appeared and he waved several vials at them. “They didn’t want these, apparently. Maybe they didn’t know what they were. What medication do you want, Doc?”

“Give me the whole box,” the Doctor huffed. “I fear he’s going to need all of them.”

“B’Elanna, are you all right?” Neelix walked over to her. “You look awfully pale.”

“My back hurts.” B’Elanna coughed. “I need something to keep me going. I have to get to engineering.”

Tom came up to her, loading yet another hypo spray. “Okay if I give her some pain relief, Doc?”

“A mild one, if the lieutenant means to keep focused.”

“Understood.” Tom pressed the cold nozzle to her neck and B’Elanna felt the icy hiss against her skin. Within seconds most of the pain was gone and she could straighten her back. “Good. I guess you have to stay here with the Doctor and work on Harry. Neelix, you come with me. I have to see what they’ve done with my warp core.” She walked over to the EMH, squeezing his shoulder with a gentle hand. “Any hidden weapons in here, by any chance?”

“This is a sickbay, not a …” He stopped, a sorrow tinted smirk on his face. “Look in the third stasis chamber. Since the Kazon attack the first year, I’ve kept a few phasers lying around.”

Neelix moved with rapid, short steps over to the hatches, opening the third one. Reaching inside, he felt around, a broad grin on his face as he pulled our three phasers. “Here, Lieutenant,” he said, offering B’Elanna one and then Tom the other. “I’ll keep one as well. Shall we go, before your medication wears off?”

B’Elanna nodded briskly. “Yes. Set the phaser to heavy stun, Neelix. We don’t know who we’ll run into.” Kissing Tom hard on the lips, she moved towards the door. “We can’t communicate yet, but unless they looted my desk of everything, there should be extra comm badges. If I can get the computer up and running, I’ll site-to-site transport some to you. See you later.”

Making sure the corridor was empty; B’Elanna raised her phaser in a defensive position and motioned for Neelix to join her. It was time to check the damages.

***

Seven knew the nanoprobes were still functioning at peak performance. They kept her erect and there was no pain from where her wrists were attached to the glass poles.  _If they could only sedate the hurt and anguish of my heart. Kathryn._  She knew to the sixth decimal of a second how much time had elapsed since the men left, but she did not care. Nor was she nervous about what may happen to her in this chamber. The multicolour diodes kept changing colour into different patterns and sometimes they switched off, rendering the room complete darkness.

It was hard not to think of Kathryn. The happiness of their engagement party, torn to shreds by the alien attack, which had kept them apart for more than two months.  _I would give everything to know she is uninjured. I would sell my soul back to the Borg if I knew it would bring Kathryn and the crew to safety. No sacrifice is too much._  One deep sob was all Seven allowed herself before pressing her lips together. She was not going to cry. If she started, she would not be able to stop. Seven forced herself to think of happy moments, and there were plenty to choose from.

The night before the party, Kathryn had made such passionate, tender love to her. Replicated candles sat in every corner of their bedroom as the captain undressed Seven with tenderness, placing kisses on ever part of her revealed skin. “You’re so beautiful,” Kathryn whispered. “You smell wonderful.”

Seven stood still in the middle of the bedroom floor, comfortable in letting her lover push the blue bio suit down her hips. Kathryn was dressed in only a robe, coming straight from the sonic shower. Her auburn hair glistened when the candles found highlights, making them sparkle. “You are the one who is beautiful,” Seven murmured. “You are the essence of beauty to me.”

Stopping, Kathryn rose and cupped Seven’s cheeks. “I am? I think you’re biased, darling, but I know it’s true for you. You never lie.”

_Never. I have never deliberately lied to you. I have hidden things, for reasons of self-preservation, when I thought you may not understand._  Seven regarded Kathryn with moist eyes as the captain leaned down and liberated her from her bio suit and the boots. Kissing her way up, she elicited a moan of pleasure from Seven, nuzzling the lanky body.

“Tell me what you want, darling.” Kathryn wrapped her arms around her lover’s waist, holding the naked body close while leaning back to meet her eyes. “Tell me how you want me to make love to you tonight. I’ll do anything for you.”

Something twitched and burned between Seven’s thighs at the words, spoken in such a throaty, lustful voice. “Anything?”

“Absolutely. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Searching her mind and heart, for options, Seven thought her nanoprobes might close her system down as a multitude of suggestions surfaced within zero point five seconds. Examining them one by one, she was at a loss what to choose. “I am not sure.”

“Should I romance you? Ravage you? Bathe you?”

Her eyes widening, Seven raised her optical implant. “Bathe me?”

“I know your nanoprobes keep you immaculate and pristine every minute of the day, but there is something to be said for a hot bath to just relax and enjoy the moment.” Kathryn smiled. “Want to try?”

Seven had taken baths before, since sharing the large tub with her lover was such a delight. “Yes. I would like to try this. Will you come into the bathtub with me?”

“Do you want me to?” Kathryn’s eyes darkened.

“Yes.”

Taking Seven by the hand, Kathryn led her into the bathroom connected to the bedroom. Punching in commands, water rushed into the large, rectangular tub, filling it in less than a minute. “Temperature all right?” Kathryn asked.

Feeling with her human hand, Seven nodded. “It is agreeable.”

The sight when Kathryn let her robe fall to the floor, made Seven gasp out loud. The naked body next to hers was trim and firm, certainly well kept for a woman in her mid forties. Average, soft breasts over a stomach with a slight convex curve, thin auburn curls at the apex of Kathryn’s thighs, Seven wanted to touch and taste it all.

“Get in.” Kathryn nudged her with warm hands. “I’ll slip in behind you.”

Usually they bathed the other way around, with Seven, being the taller of the two, behind Kathryn. “Very well.” Accommodating her lover, Seven climbed into the tub, sitting down in the hot, scented water. Reaching up, she held Kathryn’s hand as the other woman slipped in behind her.

Seven felt Kathryn’s legs stretch out along both sides of her, the curls on her sex pressing into Seven’s buttocks. Unable to suppress another moan, Seven shuddered.

“Am I turning you on, sweetheart?” Kathryn’s throaty voice asked, teasing in her trademark gentle fashion, like her lover sometimes did when they were alone.

_It has the desired effect, Kathryn._ “Yes.”  _No lies, ever._

“Oh, God, darling.” Kathryn’s greedy hands rose quickly from the water and took hold of Seven’s breasts, cupping them, massaging them, finding the stiffened peaks and tweaking them even harder.

Seven leaned back, careful not to press to hard against Kathryn. Moaning, she arched into the touch, delighted at the rough attention her lover paid her breasts. She knew without having to look how dark pink her usually pale nipples had become.

Kathryn nibbled at her shoulder with sharp teeth, as her lover let one hand slip down Seven’s abdomen, reaching soft, blonde hair.

“Let me in.” Dark and hoarse from arousal, the voice behind Seven commanded her without effort.

Spreading her legs, bending them at the knees, Seven opened herself to Kathryn’s hand. Unwilling to wait, the hand moved further down, in between folds slick from something other than the water.

“So accessible. So ready.” Kathryn pushed her fingers forward, sliding them up and down on either side of the engorged clitoris.

Seven whimpered almost inaudibly, feeling how she grew harder, wetter. “Take me, Kathryn, please?” she begged.

“Yes, darling.”

And Kathryn took her, over and over. Her lover pressed several fingers into her, thrusting, flicking her thumb over Seven’s aching clitoris, building the pressure until she was trembling all over.

“Move a little, darling.” Taking advantage of the spacious tub, Kathryn managed to move on top of her lover, one arm around Seven’s narrow waist, one hand buried between her legs. “I love you, Annika.” There was no doubt in the other woman’s voice. “I love you more than life. I’d do anything for you. Anything.”

The orgasm made Seven lose control. Unlike her usual contained ways, she allowed the startling pleasure to take over, disconcerting her enough to give a sharp scream. Clasping down on Kathryn’s fingers, still caressing that spot within her, which made her convulse over and over, Seven rode the waves, mindless and only aware of her own pleasure.

When she began registering her surroundings, she heard Kathryn call out her name in a deep, husky voice, the other woman straddling a long, slender thigh, pressing against it. “Seven!”

Raising her head, Seven stared with unseeing eyes on the shifting pattern of the diodes. She had carried Kathryn to bed, only to commence licking every drop of water from her slick body. When she finally locked her mouth onto Kathryn’s sex, it had been the start of a series of orgasms intense enough to almost render the captain unconscious.

She froze in place between the poles. A faint hum, increasing in frequency, reverberated throughout the chamber. Seven felt it in her soles of her feet, and up her legs.  _Kathryn. Will I ever see you again? What will happen to me, to us? At least, if I expire today, I know you know…I love you._

***

“I’ve never been onboard anything so advanced,” Mirish stated as she crawled behind Janeway through a Jeffrey’s tunnel toward the bridge. “Our space crafts are ancient, compared to this.”

Janeway grimaced at the pain in her knees, but kept the speed up, knowing every minute counted. “She’s an intrepid class vessel. When we left our home world she was state of the art.” Stopping just inside a hatch, Janeway debated whether to continue in the corridor on the other side, or climb the ladder next to her, to another level within the Jeffrey’s tube system.

“We can’t afford detection, Captain,” Kingas warned, raising an eyebrow. “How far is it to the bridge?”

“Two decks up, and at least two more tubes like the one we just crawled through,” Janeway estimated. “We have to move faster. We don’t know how long we have before they discover the guards.”

“It was mayhem out there. I doubt if they’ll notice for a while yet. But let’s go, then, Captain.”

Janeway reached for the ladder, beginning her ascent. Her heart raced at the familiar scent and feeling of her beloved ship. Having been away from Voyager for so long made it seem almost surreal to once again being inside the vessel. The main computer did not respond to hail, which worried her. The aliens had had plenty of time to cause damage to every system.

It didn’t seem as if the aliens had bothered examining the Jeffrey’s tubes. The panels were intact and there was no debris, as there had been in the corridors. Poor Voyager looked slaughtered, with loose wiring hanging from the consoles throughout the ship. After going down the main corridor, distant voices had made Janeway choose another, safer route to the bridge.

Finally they reached the hatch leading out underneath a console in her ready room. Listening with her ear pressed hard against the hatch, Janeway couldn’t make out any voices or other signs of any aliens present. She punched in command codes, making sure nobody could open the hatch once she closed it behind them. Opening it a crack, she saw the room was empty. She climbed out and extended a hand to Mirish and then Kingas, pulling them out of the tube before the hatched locked behind them.

The ready room was destroyed. There was no other word for it. Every piece of technology was gone and the aliens had broken her desk when trying to remove it. Spying something red on the couch beneath the view port, Janeway saw it was the one of her uniform jackets. She hurried over and slipped it on. It was impossible to zip it up, due to the bulkiness of the coverall, but it didn’t matter. The awareness of her uniform made her feel as if she took back her captaincy. After two months of fighting alone for her life in the jungle, she needed the reassurance to help her step back into command.

Gesturing for the other two to remain quiet, Janeway pulled a weapon from her belt, setting it to kill before moving toward the bridge. The door didn’t open automatically. Grunting in annoyance, Janeway grabbed a suction device from a small cabinet, attaching it to the door. Pressing it open, Janeway looked out on the bridge. A dark figure moved over by the ops station. Hesitating only for a second, she noticed it was one of Masier’s men, about to pull out circuits from Harry’s consol.

“Step away from the computer.” Janeway’s voice was filled with rage, apparently startling the alien. “Move!” She directed her disruptor towards him.

“Who are you?” The mercenary demanded, sounding surprised and angry. “How the hell did you get in here?”

“I won’t tell you again. Step away from the console.”

Instead the bulky man reached for a weapon attached to his well equipped harness. Janeway didn’t hesitate. Firing continuously, her upper lip pulled back in a snarl, she sent him flying into the console behind him.

“Captain, stop! Enough! He’s dead.” Kingas tugged at Janeway, pulling her out of the red haze. “We don’t have much time.”

Janeway tossed the weapon onto the captain’s chair and moved behind Tuvok’s tactical station. Punching in commands, most of them by chance since tears of fury and fear rose in her eyes, Janeway began running a simple diagnostic to see what was working or not.

“Mirish, secure the door leading out of here.” Kingas walked over to Janeway’s ready room, peaking inside the open door. “Clear!”

“The only other door out of here seems to be this one,” Mirish pointed toward the turbo lift.

“There’s a door through the conference room as well. I’ve put a lock on it.” Janeway blinked the tears away. “The computer is coming online, but that also means anyone paying attention will know someone’s onboard.”

“Can’t be helped.” Kingas examined Seven’s console behind the command chairs. “Can we get the big screen online?”

“I think so.” Janeway scrolled down the system files, overriding a set of commands, only to find circuits missing in so many places around the ship, she wondered if it was going to be at all possible.

“ _Computer online. Requesting command code._ ” The pleasant female voice of Voyager’s main computer startled Kingas and Mirish, making them raise their weapons.

“Damn, that wasn’t funny.” Kingas frowned, walking over to Janeway. “Is it operational?”

“In a minute. Computer. Register command code Janeway-Alpha-Theta-Theta-Zero-Five-Zero. Commence voice pattern check.”

“ _Code – confirmed. Voice pattern – Captain Janeway, confirmed._ ”

“I have an overview of the compound on short range sensors,” Janeway stated. “Computer. On screen.”

The sight meeting them on the main screen at the front of the bridge was unbelievable. Janeway stared at the tall flames raging, having spread to the barracks. Mercenaries were trying to round up the Voyager crew escaping the fire, the smoke and flames making this task impossible. “Oh, God,” Janeway breathed. “What the hell was in the ammunition storage that would spread the fire like that?”

“I don’t know,” Kingas said, her voice grim. “But look!” She pointed to the corner of the screen.

To Janeway’s amazement it looked as if several of the Voyager crew were systematically attacking the Sidiors. Hiding behind debris, risking being too close to the burning structures, men and women surprised the unsuspecting men, disarming them.

“Gutsy people, your crew,” Mirish offered.

Janeway broke out of her reverie, staring at the console before her. “Computer. Give me the number and location of the bio signatures on Voyager.”

“ _Sixteen alien signatures found. Four in the officer’s mess hall. Eight in cargo bay two. Four in engineering. Two human signatures found in sickbay. One Klingon/human hybrid signature found in Jeffrey’s tube 17A. One Talaxian signature found in Jeffrey’s tube 17A.”_

Janeway drew a deep breath. “Damn it, my chief engineer is onboard.” Relief mixed with worry flooded her veins. “Jeffrey’s tube 17A leads to the aft of engineering. She might be on her way to her post. She and … Neelix? They won’t stand a chance against four of the mercenaries!”

Kingas pulled out yet another disruptor, switching it on with a distinct hum. “Then we just have to help her, don’t we?”

***


	7. Chapter 7

“You ready, Neelix?” B’Elanna glanced over her shoulder at the stocky Talaxian man crawling behind her.

“Yes, although I have to admit, my old legs weren’t meant to crawl like this, Lieutenant,” Neelix groaned. “Any signs of the bad guys?”

B’Elanna checked the tricorder left behind by one of her crewmembers when they were attacked. “Hold it,” she hissed, stopping so quickly, Neelix bumped his forehead against her bottom. “Hey.”

“Sorry, B’Elanna.”

“I have four alien signatures in engineering.”  _Damn. They better not be messing with my warp core._  Pushing the tricorder inside the waistband of her trousers, B’Elanna clutched her phaser. Feeling her upper lip pulling back in a snarl of its own volition, she knew her Klingon lust for blood was taking over. “Stay next to me. We only get the element of surprise once.”

“Right.” There was an unmistakable sound of Neelix swallowing spasmodically.

Moving along the Jeffrey’s tube, they reached another hatch, this one locked with B’Elanna’s own algorithm. She opened the front of the console and blinked when she saw it fully operational. “Someone’s booted the main computer,” she whispered. “Who the hell are these guys to override the command team’s security codes?”

“You’d think these brutes wouldn’t be able to,” Neelix agreed, pushing up along side her. “Can you get us in there, Lieutenant?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem now that the main frame is online.” B’Elanna took a deep breath, keeping her voice low. “Computer, override engineering lockdown, Torres Gamma-Delta-Four-Four-One. Silent mode.” If the computer acknowledged out loud, the aliens behind the hatch would hear it. The muted click when the locking mechanism opened was the only sign the computer had heard her command.

“It worked,” Neelix breathed. “Now what?”

“Now we peek inside.” B’Elanna turned towards the hatch and pushed it open half a centimetre. Squinting through the crack, she could see movement on the other side of the wall. For all she knew there could be a mercenary standing on the other side of the hatch, but that was a risk she’d have to take. She counted three forms working on the console on the opposite wall.  _They’re screwing around with my computer!_  “Neelix,” she whispered. “Is your phaser set to heavy stun?”

“Yes.”

“Something tells me we better change it to kill. We can’t take any chances with these idiots.”

Neelix looked apprehensive, but obeyed her directive. “All right.”

“I’ll take out the two to the far left. You fire at the one closest to the warp core. There’s a fourth and we’ll have to find him quickly. Hopefully he’ll be startled enough to delay his response.”

Nodding solemnly, Neelix’s usual benevolent face was dead serious. “I’m ready.”

B’Elanna stopped for a second and turned towards Neelix again. “Here goes nothing,” she whispered in a faint growl. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss on a stunned Neelix lips and flung the hatch open. B’Elanna fired her phaser towards the two men about to remove components from the computer console.

They cried out in short agony before falling to the floor. Above her, Neelix placed one hand on her shoulder for leverage and fired at the third alien. His aim was good, but the man was quick in his response. He skidded to the right, and took cover underneath the work console.

“Come on!” B’Elanna jumped out of the hatch, bringing out the tricorder with her free hand, trying to pinpoint where the fourth intruder was. The readings showed he was right above her and she raised her phaser to fire, only to find herself staring into the muzzle of a disruptor.

“You’re one tough bitch,” the mercenary snarled. “I thought we killed you the first time. Well, I figured I’d get a crack at it later.” He took aim and B’Elanna dove to the left, rolling away from the hatch opening. She hoped the alien didn’t realise Neelix was still inside the Jeffrey’s tube, she fired towards the bulky Sidior, hitting his shoulder.

He didn’t even scream, merely staggered backward, firing at her continuously. B’Elanna ducked under a console, hearing it explode and found herself engulfed in a rain of sparks. The smell of singed metal and circuits hurt her nostrils.

B’Elanna turned her head she tried to spot the man Neelix had injured, but could not detect him. Worried the thug might not be seriously wounded, B’Elanna took a deep breath before rolling along the floor towards another computer console, firing above her head as she did.

Suddenly a hard weapon’s muzzle pressed against her neck out of nowhere. “Got you now,  _esh’t’cha_!”

Her blood ran cold and then red hot a second later. Furious, B’Elanna pushed her elbow back, hitting the surprised alien before twirling and firing her phaser in his face. The man flew backward and ended up lying slumped on the floor, his features unrecognisable.

Gasping for air, B’Elanna fought back nausea; all too aware this distraction meant the man on the second floor had probably used the time to relocate. She carefully peeked though the smoke from the consoles, but couldn’t see him.

Neelix now took the opportunity to move out through the hatch, and crawl over to her. “B’Elanna …”

“I’m fine. Where is he?” She motioned upward with her chin.

“I think he moved towards the warp core up there. It’ll be hard to get up there. We’ll be sitting ducks, if we try to climb the ladders.”

“Right. Come, we have to try something.” B’Elanna crawled towards the opposite wall, trying to stay under the consoles as much as possible, Neelix following behind her.

Her back was beginning to ache again. The mild sedative Tom had given her in sickbay was wearing off quickly. Unless they took the mercenary out now, she’d be incapacitated by pain in a short while.

“Don’t move, or you’re about to fry.” The cold voice from above startled B’Elanna, making her roll over, raising her phaser. A well aimed shot out of nowhere tossed the weapon painfully from her hands. “I said, don’t move,” the mercenary growled, where he leaned out from the second floor, holding onto the railing with one hand, aiming straight at her chest with the other.

Neelix pressed himself flat behind B’Elanna. “Let me at him,” he hissed almost inaudibly.

“No.” B’Elanna mouthed. “Wait.”

“Any last words?” the alien taunted her. “You’re going to what ever pitiful afterlife your species pray to. Now.”

“I don’t think so.” A throaty, beloved voice, created a waterfall of tears streaming down B’Elanna’s face. Above her a beam from an alien weapon singed through the air, tossing the alien into a spin, sending him crashing to the floor a few metres away.

She stared up at a woman, barely recognisable as Captain Janeway, flanked by two female aliens. B’Elanna wept like a child. “Captain …”

“God, B’Elanna!” Janeway threw herself to the floor next to her engineer, and pulled her into a firm embrace. “I feared you were dead.”

“Captain! We thought they killed you!” Neelix scrambled toward them, placing his arm around the two women in a bear hug. “Oh, Captain, I’m so glad to see you. We’ve almost given up hope. I guess some of the crew fear the worst.”

“Neelix …” Janeway’s voice cracked as she kissed them both. She stared at them with intense, blue eyes, in happy recognition before straightening her back. She motioned behind her. “This is Kingas and Mirish. They belong to a rebel unit and we’ve launched a major attack against Masier and his goons. They also saved my life a while back.” She stroked B’Elanna’s shoulders in a gesture of comfort. “We have work to do. You up for it, Lieutenant?”

“I need more pain relief,” B’Elanna confessed. “But after that, just put me to work, Captain. That reminds me, we need to bring comm badges. Neelix. Look in my office. Somewhere on the desk.” She was nao gasping at the searing pain in her back.

Neelix scrambled towards the door to her office, retuning almost immediately, the pockets in his pants bulging. “Found at least thirty of them.”

“All right, I’m ready.” B’Elanna tried to get up.

Janeway’s brow furrowed. “You’re not looking well. Wait a second. Computer. Give me the locations of the remaining live alien signatures.”

“ _Four alien signatures present in the officer’s mess hall. Eight signatures present in cargo bay two._ ”

“All right. I think we can safely make it to sickbay. Who’s there?” Janeway asked.

“Tom, the Doctor … and Harry.” B’Elanna knew her voice gave her away. She stared up at Janeway, allowing the captain to help her on her feet. Next to Janeway stood two striking woman, alien, but obviously on the Voyager captain’s side.

“Something’s wrong with Harry?”

“Captain …” B’Elanna was now closed to overwhelmed with pain and fatigue. “Kathryn …” She began to cry soundlessly. “We brought him here as a last resort. Harry’s dying.”

After a moments silence, Janeway wrapped her arm around B’Elanna’s waist, pulling her towards the door, which showed obvious signs of having been blasted open at one point. As she leaned against the captain, B’Elanna knew she would never forget the look on Janeway’s face when she told her about Harry.

***

The diodes flickered, an increasingly maddening tempo, and began to hurt Seven’s human eye. Closing it, she regarded the small lights with her optical implant, noting there were 62,500,000 of them per square metre. She let her implant scan up and down the tall walls of the cave room, including the ceiling, and calculated there was an impressive 7,812,500,000 diodes, each able to display colours from infrared to ultraviolet. The mathematical exercise only rendered her a certain amount of distraction and comfort. Tugging at the fastening mechanism keeping her hands locked to the glass poles, Seven sobbed once.  _Kathryn._

When she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the warm, loving touch of her lover, as if Kathryn was indeed alive.  _She has to be. Surely I would experience a sense of devastating loss if she wasn’t? Our bond is strong. She is strong. I cannot fail her by being any less._

The diodes began pulsating between blue, yellow and bright pink. Faster and faster, they pulsated, drew her in, making her dizzy and sleepy. Her knees buckled, making her inhale sharply in an attempt to not succumb. Outraged at this new attempt from the unknown beings responsible for her predicament, Seven gave a short, sharp cry. “Show yourselves!” She trembled with anger and resentment, and pulled violently at her hands, not caring about the blood trickling from her right, human wrist. “Cowards!” she screamed, her voice breaking.

Seven knew she had never been this furious. Fuming, she ground her teeth together, a feral growl beginning in the back of her throat, pressing past the clenched teeth in a formidable roar. “I challenge you! Show yourselves!”

Suddenly all the diodes shifted to a bright purple and a low hum resonated from the ceiling. Seven bit back another display of her fury, staring up with eyes burning of unshed tears.  _Are they coming now? Am I about to expire without knowing if Kathryn has gone before me … or if she is out there, on her own?_

A tingling sound, not unpleasant, spread along her arms, reverberating through her body, returning the dizziness. It was as if someone had sedated her.  _What are they preparing me for that require anaesthetics?_

The dais vibrated subtly beneath her feet. Seven was nearly unconscious and her last thought before her system shut down, was that whoever was keeping her prisoner was about to demonstrate their purpose for doing so.

***

Janeway pulled the now slumping B’Elanna toward sickbay. When they reached a corner in the corridor, Kingas moved past them, making sure none of Masier’s men were in the corridor ahead of them.

“Here,” B’Elanna whispered huskily, handing the tall Samarior her tricorder. “You can scan with this to make sure. Just punch in the command here.” She pointed weakly at the small screen.

“Here, let me take her. We need to move quickly, Captain.” Mirish took B’Elanna from Janeway, lifting her up on strong arms. “This little creature weighs nothing.”

‘The little creature’ gave Mirish a disdainful look, making Janeway smile, despite the serious situation. “Thanks. Let’s move then.” She followed Kingas who waved them forward and they moved with significantly increased speed down the corridor. Reaching a turbo lift, Janeway raised her disruptor, sighing in relief when the lift was empty. They crowded inside, Mirish holding onto her Klingon burden.

“I’m Mirish,” she introduced herself, giving the nonplussed B’Elanna a broad smile. “You’re captain here is sure glad to see you.”

B’Elanna’s head turned toward Janeway. “I can’t believe you’re here, Captain.”

Janeway cupped B’Elanna’s cheek. “I’m here. Things are happening outside and the crew is doing their best to take control of the situation.”

“They’re weakened, Captain,” the Klingon stated sadly. “They’re not in a state to fight.”

“Ah, don’t sell them short,” Mirish said, her voice convincing. “From what I saw, the Voyager crew still knew how to fight for themselves.”

The turbo lift stopped, delivering them just outside sickbay. Suddenly afraid what she might see, Janeway stopped outside the door.

“Captain?” Kingas squeezed her shoulder gently. “Let’s go in. Time is running out.”

The comment made Janeway bite down hard on her lower lip to break out of her lapse into the world of loneliness and fear she had battled for months. ”Come on.” She pressed the door open with the suction handle still attached to it and walked inside.

The Doctor and Tom Paris were leaning over Harry’s still form on the main bio bed. The two men wheeled at the sudden sound of people entering, their phasers raised.

“Captain?” Tom’s voice was hardly audible. “B’Elanna? Are you okay?” When his wife nodded yes, he turned his attention back to his captain. Tears rose in his eyes and suddenly Janeway was wrapped up in his arms. “Oh, hell, Captain …” His strong shoulders shook for a short moment before he straightened up. “Damn, it’s good to see you.” He glanced at the tall women next to her. “Friends of yours, I take it, ma’am?”

Janeway introduced Kingas and Mirish. “How’s Harry?” she asked, slowly approaching the bio bed. She glanced at the EMH and halted mid stride. “Doctor?”

“Captain. I’m relieved beyond words to see you.” A range of emotions flickered over the hologram’s face. “We’ve feared for your safety. For your life.”

“And I for yours. Glad to see they kept your program safe,” Janeway managed, feelings threatening to overwhelm her. She placed a quick kiss on his cheek, and walked closer to Harry. The young ensign was pale, a ventilator breathed for him, and several infusions were hooked to his veins. “He’s alive still,” Janeway whispered.

“Yes, and his saturation is increasing, and so are his other vital signs. There is hope for young Harry still,” the Doctor murmured in her ear. “We can assume he hears us now.”

“He can?” Janeway stepped up to Harry’s still form, leaning over the young man she loves so much. “Harry? It’s your captain. You’re doing a great job fighting your way back to health. I can’t captain Voyager without you. You’re first choice gamma shift captain. You have to get better.”

There was no sign Harry responded to her, but behind Janeway, B’Elanna inhaled deeply and let the air out in a trembling sigh. “I was afraid that …”

“But he’s still here,” Tom interrupted her. “And so are we. What’s next, Captain?”

“Seven’s been taken to ‘join the Shantari’,” Janeway replied, the thought of her lover made Janeway’s stomach shiver in a dizzying spiral. “It’s a form of ancient sacrifice. Masier apparently is trying to keep the Shantari at bay by offering something resembling the old tradition. This time, he went for gold and decided on Seven.” She heard her voice become a low growl. “We need to render him and his buddies harmless, Tom. I can use some suggestions.”

“Since the computer suddenly came online, I can make my way to the bridge and fire up the futon torpedoes.”

“No, it may backfire against us. We want what’s left of Voyager after these scavengers have gutted her, to remain intact. How about the phasers?”

“The ship should sustain that, even if she’s on her struts,” B’Elanna said. The Doctor had injected her with a hypo spray and she managed to walk over to the others. “I can reroute the computer in engineering to the Doctor’s console in his office and monitor the ship from there.”

“Can you get the warp core online?” Janeway asked.

“I don’t know, but Seven and I left some backdoors in the system should it … ever become necessary.”

“Very well. Do it.” She turned to Tom. “Where’s Chakotay?”

“He and Tuvok went to get help from some of the security officers and set out to find Seven. We saw them march her straight into the jungle.”

“I know where they’ve taken her, where your people are heading.” Kingas hoisted her backpack up further. “We can’t stay here any longer, Captain, if we’re to find your woman before the Shantari come.”

“All right.” Janeway took a deep breath. “B’Elanna, reroute the main view screen feed into one of the computers here. When you have the systems online, start by erecting a force field around cargo bay two and the mess hall. Cut life support to those areas and decompress them.”

“Got it, Captain.” There was a contented feral looking B’Elanna’s eyes.

“After that, chose your targets carefully. Once our crew sees Voyager firing at the enemy, I know they’ll start to board the ship. In the meanwhile, Doctor, you have two assignments. Keep Harry alive and B’Elanna protected. You can’t let the enemy enter sickbay under any circumstances.”

Her voice left no room for misunderstandings and the Doctor nodded solemnly. “Yes, Captain. I will not let any harm come to either of them.”

“Harry’s prospects?” Janeway was afraid to ask, but needed to know before they left.

“If I can keep him hydrated and nothing creates unforeseeable complication, he has a chance. I can’t promise though. He’s a very sick man.”

“Very well. I know you’ll do your best, Doctor. He couldn’t have anyone better taking care of him. Now, let’s get those comm badges active, Neelix.”

Immediately animated and eager to help, Neelix lit up. He took a comm badge, snapping it on Tom’s shirt. “Computer, associate this comm badge with Tom Paris bio signature.”

“ _Communication badge activated._ ”

Janeway repeated his actions before handing two comm badges over to the Samariors. “Here. Computer, activate these two guest comm badges to Kingas and Mirish.” The computer confirmed.

“Will these really enable us to communicate?” Kingas asked. Janeway knew the Samariors’ communication devices were crude at best. The small comm badge must seem futuristic and alien to the two women.

“Yes.” After one more glance around sickbay, seeing B’Elanna hammering away at the Doctor’s computer console in his office and the EMH leaning over Harry, she raised her weapon in a defensive position when walking toward the door. “Let’s move out.” She motioned Tom, Neelix, and the Samariors to follow her, Janeway led her impromptu away team through the winding corridors of Voyager.

The floor and wall panels were torn away in places, wires hanging from the roof, and several of the computers were missing. Her heart would have bled for Voyager if it wasn’t already drained from the agony of not knowing what was happening to Seven. Her crew’s welfare tore at what little room she had left for worrying and Janeway knew the risk for overloading was great. She knew slipping into her captain skin was her only chance of staying on course with this mission. Janeway inhaled through her nose and out her mouth, moving easily through the familiar setting. She knew this was their only chance.

“Janeway to B’Elanna, report.”

“ _Force fields erected and life support cut to the sections. I’m ready to commence phaser fire and also decompress the areas you ordered in a couple of minute, Captains._ ”

“Good. We need it to cause a diversion. Keep me posted.”

“ _Yes, Captain._ ”

They reached the ramp leading out of the shuttle bay. Janeway made sure nobody hid among the Delta Flyer and other shuttles, Janeway noted the mercenaries had not been able to penetrate the lockdown she’d placed on the small ships during the attack. “Computer. Reverse safety lock on shuttle bay spacecraft.”

“ _Affirmative. Safety locks reversed._ ”

“ _Torres to Janeway. I’m ready to lay the first round of phaser fire. The computer’s detected a large complex at the other side of the tarmac, holding enough technology to host the tractor beam that pulled us in from orbit._ ”

Kathryn felt a feral grin spread over her face. Glancing at Kingas, seeing the other woman nod in consensus, she made the call. “Take it out, B’Elanna.”

“ _Yes, Captain. Firing phasers._ ”

Voyager shook momentarily, but remained steady on her struts. When Janeway heard a rumble in the distance she knew it was their cue. “Keep’em busy, Lieutenant, we’re out of here.”

“ _Got you, ma’am. B’Elanna out._ ”

Janeway took a firmer grip of her weapon and began a cautious descent down the ramp, followed by Kingas, Mirish, and Tom. When they reached the bottom, weapon’s raised and ready to fire, they stopped in their tracks.

They had walked into utter mayhem.


	8. Chapter 8

“Get down!” Janeway pushed Neelix and Tom behind some crates next to the ramp.

Disruptor fire seared through the air, hitting Voyager’s hull and some of the crates stacked around her. Janeway crouched next to Neelix and squinted through the smoke to find Kingas and Mirish. The two Samarians had been right behind them.

“Over here, Captain,” Mirish called out, her voice impossibly cheery. “Watch out west of you. Masier’s men are on the move.”

Janeway glanced to her right. Three Sidiors ran towards Voyager’s ramp, their weapons raised. “Janeway to Torres. Has the computer singled out new targets?”

“ _Affirmative. Sensor’s detect two major ammunition storages._ ”

“Blast them.”

“ _Aye, Captain. Firing phasers._ ”

Two bolts of fire blazed over their heads towards their goal. “Hold on,” Janeway cried out and ducked together with Neelix and Tom.

The ground shook and flames, vaguely visible through the smoky air erupted in the distance. Janeway looked up, and saw two enormous clouds of smoke billowing toward the sky. She peered over the crates, seeing Masier’s men wobble as they tried to regain their balance. “Now,” she ordered and raised her weapon. She took aim, taking out the one to the left, while Tom and Kingas fired at the other two. The Sidiors fell to the ground and lay motionless.

“Let’s move out. Keep comm badges available when we run into the crew.”

They moved toward the burning barracks, in the direction Masier’s men took Seven. Shadows appeared in the smoke. Janeway raised her arm and kept her disruptor set on heavy stun. The first one to appear was Lt Chapman, who dragged two wounded crewmen under each arm. His face was pale, with deep lacerations across his cheek.

“Chapman,” Janeway called out, lowering her weapon.

He stared in disbelief, as his gazes roamed her dishevelled figure, and stopped at the Federation uniform jacket with command red. “Captain?” His voice was muted, probably from the smoke.

“Voyager’s secured for now. Can you get these two onboard? The Doctor is operational in sickbay.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Chapman’s jaws worked spasmodically. “Hell, ma’am …”

Janeway knew all to well how he felt and gave him a reassuring nod. “You’re doing a good job. Get them to safety and keep bringing people onboard.” She shifted her eyes to Neelix. “You’re needed here. Stay and help Chapman organise a triage. Restore life support in the mess hall and dispose of the Sidior bodies. Post guards and whatever you do, don’t let any of Masier’s thugs over the ramp. Lt Torres is in charge until we return.”

“Aye, ma’am.” Neelix had already relieved Chapman of one of the crewmen. He handed the lieutenant a comm badge and then lifted up the semi-unconscious young woman. “Here we go, dear.” He nodded briskly toward Janeway and walked back to Voyager.

“All right, things are moving in the right direction,” Paris said. “Here are ten more of our people.”

The newcomers stared in shock at their captain, automatically accepting new comm badges and activating them. Janeway briefed them in a few words, handed them the rest of the comm badges to share, and then she kept walking, wanting to get to Seven as quickly as possible.

Almost surrounded by burning buildings, the smoke was becoming a problem. They had no way of knowing what particles they inhaled. “Check the air, Tom. I’m getting worried.”

Tom pulled out a tricorder and scanned the air. “Well, it’s nothing that’s good for you, but nothing that’ll give us any long term problem. We’re soon at the edge of the tarmac.”

They ran into several groups of crewmembers, but saw little of Masier’s gang when they made their way to the jungle. The sweet scent of the humid air among the dense undergrowth engulfed them and it was as if the smoke could not permeate it.

“This path leads to the  _Translunar Tunnel,_ ” Kingas said. She gazed up at the sky. “The moons are almost aligned. It won’t be long now.”

“What won’t be long?” Tom asked. “And who are the Shantari?”

Kingas motioned for them to keep going and led the way along the narrow, but clear path through the jungle. “We know  _of_  them, but nobody has ever seen them. In the old days, the one Sacrificed, was well trained, well prepared, for this honour. They studied the teachings for years.”

“You mean this barbaric tradition is voluntary?”

“It was.” Kingas gave him a stern look over her shoulder. Janeway saw her pilot recoil. “Now, when the Sidiors’ have made a mockery of it all, it’s become just what you say … barbaric. Your crewmember is not there of her own choice. She knows nothing of what awaits her.” Kingas moved faster along the path, her weapon raised. “If you want to save her, we have to move faster.”

Janeway’s heart thundered as they ran, something in Kingas’s words bothering her, but she could not put her finger on it.

Suddenly something hissed past them and hit Mirish on her arm. Not even moaning, the younger of the Samariors ducked, pulling Tom with her. “Masier’s men,” she mumbled. “Watch out.”

Janeway crouched next to Kingas and placed her palm on the ground for support. With her disruptor ready to fire, she tried to make out where Masier’s goons were. A massive burst fire coming from across the path answered her question. She could barely make out four men among the trees.

“Keep running,” Mirish grunted. “I’ll cover you.”

“All right.” Janeway was not about to debate the young woman’s offer. She tugged at Tom and more or less dragged him along when Mirish started returning fire, a broad grin on her face. “You too, Kingas. Go!”

“I’m not leaving you.” Kingas fired her weapon repeatedly. “You’re coming with us.”

Janeway kept running along the path, Tom right behind her. Suddenly her foot caught in a long, winding root, which sent her tumbling. Automatically, she curled into a ball and covered her head with her hands. Her body didn’t stop until it hit a firm object. Janeway held her breath as she stared right at a worn pair of black boots.

With a painful twist of her neck, Janeway snapped her head up, raising her disruptor, ready to fire. The man hovering above her was tall and dark. The sun was behind him, his face lay in shadow. Before she could fire her weapon, he crouched down next to her. The man cupped her cheek and ran his thumb along a fresh scar. “So the girl was right,” a familiar voice said.

“Chakotay!” Tom’s voice interrupted them. “You showed up just in time. We need help over there.” He motioned with his chin towards where Mirish and Kingas still was returning fire.

“Help is already there,” Chakotay replied and helped Janeway to her feet. He gave her a firm hug, his tanned face darker than usual, almost making his facial tattoo invisible. “We ran into some rebels …”

“Hello, again, Captain,” a young voice said, showing up behind Chakotay.

“Anako,” Janeway smiled in relief. “I’m glad you’re all right.

“And as the commander said, I brought help.”

The firing down the path had diminished and now Janeway saw Kingas and Mirish approach them, followed by Dargas and two of his men. “The whole cavalry,” Janeway nodded. “And just in time.” She looked at Mirish’s bleeding arm. “Are you okay?”

“Just a scratch.” Mirish took the black bandana from her head, holding it out to her sister. “Tie this around my arm for now.”

Kingas complied wordlessly and Janeway knew they’d seen and dealt with much worse. “We located the entrance to a tunnel where we think they brought Seven,” Chakotay explained. “Four men stood on guard and we ran into trouble trying to take them out without weapons. If Dargas and Anako hadn’t shown up …” He shrugged and gave the man, similar to him in height, a nod. “We owe you.”

“It’s time to enter the Translunar Tunnel,” Kingas interrupted and checked the sky again. “Dargas, I understand if this is too painful for you. Mirish, Anako, and I will take them.”

“I’m coming too,” Dargas insisted, his voice dark with emotions. “I’ll place four men on guard. We don’t want any surprises when we return.”

“Good. Let’s go then.” Kingas raised her hand, motioning them to follow her.

They lined up, Janeway just behind Kingas, and walked the last five hundred meters to the tunnel. She stared into it the darkness and wondered how far into the bedrock the chamber was. A thought suddenly hit home. “Kingas, what happens when we rescue Seven and the Shantari find an empty chamber?”

Kingas’s face hardened and she only shook her head. “This can’t happen,” she stated, her tone firm. “The Shantari has never found an empty chamber in this part of our world. It would ruin the balance between us and them. It is unheard of.” She lit a small track light and entered the tunnel, Janeway following close behind her.

“What do you mean? Someone else must take Seven’s place?”

“Yes.”

Janeway could have sworn her heart stopped. No oxygen reached her lungs and her stomach curled up in a knot, making bile rise in her throat. “Oh, God. I don’t believe this.”

Behind her, Tom and Chakotay walked in silence, apparently lost in thought, judging from their solemn looks. As they approached the door to the chamber, a plan, the only possible outcome of this, formed in her mind. There simply was no other way.

***

The diodes changed again. Seven kept her human eye closed and examined this new, gold colour with her optical implant. It pulsated, from dark okra to bright sunshine, and a tone began to ring in her ears, tormenting her senses as it altered from the deepest rumble to high tones barely within reach of her Borg audio enhancement.

After a while Seven discovered a pattern. The cycle started out as one point five minutes exactly, and it kept diminishing. As she tried to calm her senses down and think logically, Seven realised, dread filling her, that is was a countdown of sorts.  _What’s going to happen to me when the signal ends?_ She closed her Borg eye and tried to block out the flickering light and the unnerving tones.

_Kathryn. I never thought I would be alone when I expire. I hoped you would be by my side, to hold me and love me when my time came. Is this the end of my journey? Did you liberate me from the Borg for this?_  Tears began to run from her eyes, not from fear, but from profound sorrow.  _There are still things I want to tell you, Kathryn. So much more to say._

Seven leaned her head back, as if surrendering to the loud tones and the pulsating light might speed up the process.  _Please, let it be over with._

***

The glass like walls in the tunnel seemed smooth at first glance, but when she stroke her hand along them, Janeway realised they were adorned with finely chiselled patterns. When she looked closer in the faint light, she saw it was repetitive. “Kingas, are these writings?” she asked the woman behind her.

“Yes. These are ancient scriptures, made by the Shantari.”

“Do you know what it says?”

“Certainly. These scriptures have been included in all of our prayers since the beginning of time.” Kingas voice took on a reverent tone. “They say: ‘ _Lead the bravest toward the deep cavern. Allow the best to find their way home. Deliver your boldest souls and most loving of hearts to return. Give up your courageous and pure of heart_.’”

“And what does that mean?” Janeway lengthened her stride, eager to reach Seven.

“Just what they say. Only the best, with the purest of hearts and souls, could apply to the Seminars. Their studies ranged sometimes over decades before the Scholars deemed them worthy.”

Janeway found Kingas’s explanation both awe-inspiring and deeply unsettling. The belief in and dedication to the Shantari, still lived on in the Samariors. If a seasoned, hardened warrior like Kingas believed in this ancient tradition, it was evident to Janeway how it must permeate the Samorians in general.

They moved farther into the bedrock, the obsidian tunnel still as wide and the pattern on its walls increasing. Janeway wasn’t sure she wanted to know what they said.

When they reached the end of the tunnel, Kingas and Dargas approached the smooth wall. Dargas put down his disruptor and pulled out a leather string that hung around his neck. He produced a black glass like square object, which dangled from its end.

Kingas put a hand on his arm and stopped him just as he went to raise the object toward the wall. “Be careful. Remember it malfunctioned at first, last time we tried.”

Dargas’s eyes reduced to narrow slits as he regarded Kingas. “You don’t have to remind me what happened last time we were in this tunnel.”

Her voice grew incredibly soft, something Janeway had thought impossible with this impressive woman, Kingas raised her hand to Dargas’s shoulder. “I know. Dorma was too good for this world.”

Dargas covered Kingas’s hand for a moment before raising the piece of black glass. He pressed it against the wall and Janeway saw how it began to move.  _Gods, Seven. I’m coming for you. Please be all right in there._

***

B’Elanna punched commands into the computer console in a furious pace. “Computer, how many Voyager crewmembers are onboard?”

“ _Eighty-three crewmembers are onboard._ ”

“Their status?”

“ _Fifteen in sickbay, twenty eight in engineering, ten on lower decks, sixteen in shuttle bay one, ten in cargo bay two, four on the bridge._ ”

B’Elanna targeted the main house, where Masier had held Seven captured, and fired Voyager’s phasers. Not taking her eyes off the screen, she watched in great satisfaction how the large structure exploded into a massive fireball, with debris shooting through the air. Everywhere, mercenaries engaged in battle with the part of the Voyager crew that was still outside. A quick headcount suggested that about sixty crewmembers were fighting out there.  _I have to find a way to get them inside._

B’Elanna engaged short range scanners to search for her next target. She had already taken out Masier’s ammunition depots, his house and several of the hangars. She studied the data flickering on the screen. All she saw was barracks, sheds and minor aircraft. Suddenly the computer stopped scrolling and she stared at the perfect target. If she managed to destroy this, it would put Masier out of business for a long, long time. B’Elanna recalculated twice before she set the coordinates. She opened ship wide communications, as well as external speakers, and alerted her crew. She knew by doing that, she’d tip off the mercenaries, but she couldn’t afford to not warn everyone.

“All hands, seek shelter, seek shelter. I repeat, all hands seek shelter.” She watched the battle outside stop in its tracks for a moment when everyone listened. Voyager’s crew pulled back towards the ship, all the time firing at the enemy. B’Elanna waited thirty seconds, repeated her warning and then punched in the last command.

A photon torpedo broke free from Voyager, seared through the air with a howl, and slammed into a tall structure across the tarmac.  _If this doesn’t push Voyager off her struts, nothing will._ B’Elanna clutched at the armrests of the Doctor’s chair and sucked her lower lip in as she witnessed the explosion when Masier’s tractor beam technology was destroyed. The shockwave hit Voyager, but the intrepid ship stood its ground and remained erect on its struts.

B’Elanna prayed that the crewmembers fighting outside were all right. She looked up as the Doctor entered his office with a scowl on his face. “Lieutenant, what’s going on? Are you trying to kill us all?”

“As a matter of fact, the opposite, Doctor. I blew up the tractor-beam apparatus in the tower across the tarmac. I would hope that this meets with your approval.” She tried to inject her normal sarcastic tone in her voice, but knew she sounded just as exhausted and pain stricken as she was.

The Doctor’s features relaxed and he went over to her and scanned her quickly with a medical tricorder. “You will not last much longer doing this, unless you allow me to operate,” he cautioned. “Your spleen, along with your liver and kidneys are under tremendous strain, Lieutenant.”

“Just give me another of those pain killers, Doc. I’ll be fine.”  _I have to be._  B’Elanna grimaced at the exasperated look on the EMH’s face. “I know, I know. As soon as the captain and the rest of the away team have brought Seven back and we’re safe in space, you can operate to your little heart’s content, all right?”

“One more and that’s all I can give you, in all good conscience, B’Elanna. It isn't medically defendable to give you more. You Klingons are strong by nature, but the opposite goes for your liver. And since you're half human, there might be unforeseen consequences. Next time the pain gets unbearable, you’re going on that biobed. I will make sure of it.” The Doctor’s resolve was impressive and B’Elanna found herself nodding in uncharacteristic compliance. “Very well, Lieutenant, as long as we have an understanding.”

“Don’t push it, Doctor.” B’Elanna saw the necessity in reasserting her usual resilience. “Let me have that shot now so I can go on. I’m the senior officer onboard at the moment. I can’t give into this now.”

The Doctor pressed a hypospray against the side of her neck and a familiar sting followed the muted hiss when he pressed the button. Within seconds the throbbing pain reduced to a faint tremor inside her and she could focus on supporting the part of the Voyager crew still fighting hand to hand combat out there.

Suddenly the readings on the short range scanners caught her attention. B’Elanna froze for a fraction of a second before she pulled the Doctor’s computer console closer with jerky hand movements. “ _P’tach!_ ” she cursed and pulled up a view from an aft camera link. What she saw made her lungs deplete the last of the oxygen in the room as she drew a deep breath. “What the hell…? Where did that come from? Damn it! Doctor! Neelix! Get on the computers out there. Our crew is in trouble out there!”

The Doctor and Neelix must have distinguished the dread in her tone of voice, because they raced to the two medical consoles.

“Pull up the views of the aft part of the tarmac and then calculate the distance to that damn thing!” B’Elanna saw out of the corner of her eyes how they two men punched in commands and assumed they could see what she saw.

A massive armoured vehicle was approaching Voyager from behind. “ _Masier_ ,” B’Elanna muttered through gritted teeth. She examined the images and the computer readings on the monstrosity that was on a steady course toward them. There were no way to penetrate its hull, to scan for life signatures, but the vehicle was thirteen metres wide and more than twenty-five metres in length. In the front sat an impressive, seven metre cannon. If they had the opportunity to fire this on Voyager, it wouldn’t matter if her crew won the battle. They’d never be able to repair the ship enough to take off.

“What do you see, Doc?” B’Elanna called out.

“We could be staring at our demise,” the Doctor said with unusual fatalism. “I’m getting readings of forty Sidior signatures behind this…tank.”

“And I’m detecting just as many approaching from starboard.” Neelix voice was calm, but B’Elanna knew the Talaxian well enough to notice the sorrow in his voice. “They outnumber our crew and they’re heavily armed.”

“Think quickly, gentlemen,” B’Elanna growled. “We have to stop this thing, and fast.” She kept staring at the small screen, her soul shrinking when she saw the Sidior armoured tank begin to raise its cannon.

***


	9. Chapter 9

The almost undetectable door swung open, and Janeway squinted at the blinding, pulsating light. It caused a burning sensation to her retina, and she kept her hand up to shield her eyes as she approached the opening, disruptor raised. “Seven?” There was no reply.

She looked around the small hall and nothing could have prepared her for the sight that met her eyes, teary from the flickering light. In the middle, on a dais, chained to what looked like obsidian poles, stood Seven, her back and neck arched back, arm’s tautly stretched and held captive what looked like obsidian poles. She seemed oblivious to her surroundings and their presence. Janeway wanted to rush up to her, wrap her arms close around her and bury her neck in the soft curve of Seven’s neck. The extended poise scared her, the arch of Seven’s back seemed impossible to sustain without fracturing her spine.

The light now throbbed with an almost unbearable intensity, ranging from pristine white to blood red. Not taking her eyes off Seven, Janeway still noticed how tall the ceiling was. It seemed to go on forever, but she had little interest in the make up of the inner chamber, and she took a step toward the dais.

“Stop, Captain.” Kingas placed a strong hand on Janeway’s shoulder. “You can’t free her.”

“What?” Janeway’s head snapped around. “What do you mean?”

“First of all, we have to use the keys to unlock the clasps around her wrists. There is no other way to get her loose.”

“Then do it!”

Kingas’s eyes looked at her with empathy. “We have a hard decision to make first, Captain, and it has to be done quickly.”

Impatiently Janeway grabbed the rebel’s hand. “Tell me, then. You said yourself that time’s running out.”

Kingas looked as if someone kicked her in the gut. “Yes, it is. That’s why we need to make some difficult decisions. Quickly. Freeing her is possible, if we’re acting within seconds. The problem is we can’t approach the dais without knowing who’s going to take her place.”

A large lump of ice seemed to dislodge from Janeway’s stomach and send icicles piercing every part of her body. “We can’t just free Seven and get the hell out of here?”

“No, Captain. We can’t.” Kingas’s voice was not without kindness, and still it left no margin for doubt that she was deadly serious. “When we release your woman, someone else must be on the dais with her, to change her place. If not, the doors will close and we’ll not be able to open them, not from inside, not from the outside.”

“I guess there’s not point in asking if you’re exaggerating…” Janeway’s mind raced. It only took a few seconds for the only solution to the problem to emerge. “All right.” She straightened her aching back. “Let’s go to her before it’s too late.”

“But, Captain…”

“You heard me, Kingas.” Janeway knew her eyes must be winter-stormy grey. “I will take Seven’s place.”

* * *

B’Elanna stared at the enormous tank that crept toward them, slow and menacing, and with its cannon directed at Voyager. Her thoughts tumbled around each other as she tried to think of a solution to this threat of imminent destruction. It seemed she only had one choice.

“Doctor, Neelix. I’m going to fire the last three photon torpedoes into this damn thing. The shockwave from the hit, since it’s so close, might knock Voyager off her struts, but I have no choice.”

“I agree,” Neelix replied. “You better hurry up, Lieutenant.” There was a new tone to Neelix’s voice, a sort of seasoned gravity that B’Elanna had not detected in the Talaxian before. “They seem to be picking up speed.”

“All hands, brace for impact.” B’Elanna engaged both inner and outer communication systems to alert the crew. She knew there was a great risk the ones of Voyager’s crew still fighting out on the tarmac might be hurt. Punching in commands at a furious pace, B’Elanna armed the last photon torpedoes, and directed them toward the approaching tank.

The explosions dimmed the view screen for a moment, and B’Elanna felt the chair she sat in slam into the bulkhead behind her. She hit her head hard on a protruding part of the computer panel, and felt hot moisture leak into her hair. There was no pain, and she reached for the desk, pulling up to the computer again. Seeing only smoke and debris, she blinked several times, trying to make out the alien tank. “Report,” she barked.

“Just a moment, Lieutenant,” the Doctor called out. “Neelix is injured.”

B’Elanna’s head snapped up, and she stared at the still, prone form on the floor, cold dread starting to simmer beneath her cranial ridges. “Will he be all right?”  _Kahless, no. Not Neelix._

“I cannot say. He took a bad fall.” The Doctor rose with Neelix in his arms, effortlessly placing him on a bio bed. He scanned the stocky form and then nodded solemnly. “His vital signs are within reasonable parameters. I’ve put him on life-support.” He turned toward B’Elanna. “At least the ship is still on her struts.”

“Yeah, but I fear that’s about it.” B’Elanna returned her attention toward the screen. “Oh, damn…”

Many of the alien mercenaries lay motionless on the tarmac, but B’Elanna had to force back another surge of nausea as she realised they had stopped the tank, but not rendered it completely harmless. The canon still moved, even if the caterpillar looking propulsion seemed inoperative.

“How about our people?” she asked the Doctor.

“Six minor injuries from the ones onboard Voyager. Short range readings suggest eighteen wounded outside, two of them serious. I’ll get ready for them.”

“Very well,” B’Elanna murmured, punching in new commands. “Damn! The tank is powering up. They’re going to fire at us and Voyager won’t sustain a hit from that cannon.”

“You have to find a way to stop them!” The Doctor rushed towards the door, relieving two scorched ensigns of their unconscious burden.

Growling deep in her throat, B’Elanna hammered furiously at the work console, pulling up all the sensor readings she could think of. “Torres to engineering. Direct all available resources to the main deflector and our shields.” She gripped the console hard with one hand and pressed the other against her side, coughing so hard she tasted iron in her mouth. The taste of blood sent her Klingon ire through the ceiling. “Damn you, Masier,” she growled and felt blood and saliva foaming around her lips as she spoke. “Damn you to  _Gre’thor_!”

A rumble shook Voyager and B’Elanna slammed into the Doctor’s desk. Pain seared through her. “Tom!” The name of her husband seemed to echo in her head long after everything turned into black nothingness.

* * *

“Captain! You can’t!”

The young voice next to her made Janeway twirl. Around them the lights were pulsating with a maddening pace and the vibrating hum increased an octave.

“Anako, I have no time to argue.” Janeway knew her voice cut the girl off by the ankles.

“But you do. You still have time to change your mind.” Anako placed a strong hand on Janeway’s arm, clearly unfazed. “You don’t have to sacrifice yourself!”

“You are young…”

“And of the right bloodline.”

Confused by the unexpected announcement, said with obvious pride and completely fearless, Janeway stared at Anako. “What do you mean?”

“She’s of the  _Shantari-Vorisan_ ,” Kingas explained. “They are holy people. Most of the Shantari sacrifices came from Anako’s ancestors.”

“What does that mean?” Janeway looked over at Seven who appeared to not notice them. Her eyes were half closed and her body as taut and trembling.

“It means I go.”

Janeway went rigid and glowered at Anako in disbelief. “You go? You’re a child!”

“I am seventeen. I am a rebel warrior since two years. I have studied the teachings of my ancestors. Can you think of anyone else more fitting, more deserving than I, here?” There was true conviction in Anako’s voice.

“But, Anako…” Tears rose in Janeway’s eyes and she pressed her lips together and wiped at them with furious movements. “To sacrifice your life…”

“Listen, Captain,” Anako implored her. “Neither of your crewmembers were ever meant to be here, and certainly not in this chamber. You are not of this world. You are meant to be fulfilling your destiny in some other part of space.” She motioned with a stubborn chin toward Seven. “With her.”

Her guts twisted in a knot, Janeway took a step backward, shaking her head in disbelief. She’d been ready, more than willing to sacrifice her life for Seven. It wasn’t even an option to do otherwise. Chakotay could captain Voyager and Seven deserved to go on, to go home to the Alpha Quadrant and experience the life that was stolen from her by the Borg. Now this young woman, reminding her of a warrior elfin from a holodeck novel, would take her place as the sacrificial lamb.  _Damn it, it isn’t right!_

“Captain. Let her. Just look at her.” Tom Paris grabbed Janeway by the shoulders and pulled her against his chest. Next to him, Chakotay reached out and took her hand. “She looks…content.”

As much as Janeway couldn’t quite admit it to herself: it was true. Anako had a glow, something serene emanating from her. It was as if the young girl had known her destiny all along.  _Perhaps she has._ Janeway gave a muted whimper as Dargas pulled out a key dangling from a chain around his neck. He gave Kingas a grim look before placing it into the obsidian pole on Seven’s right. He twisted the key and Seven’s arm was free from its restraints.

Anako moved in and placed her hand where Seven’s had been. Dargas looked at her wordlessly for a few seconds before turning the key again to lock her in. Kingas moved behind Seven and wrapped both arms around her midsection. “Do it.”

Dargas unlocked the other obsidian pole and Seven was free. Kingas pulled her backward and swept her up in her arms as if Seven was but a child. Anako placed her other hand in the obsidian pole and smiled at Janeway.

At the sight of the young girls beautiful smile, something dissolved inside Janeway and she broke free from Paris’s grip. Rushing forward, she wrapped her arms around Anako’s neck. “Child…”

“Captain. Take her and leave. Get everyone out of here. It’s begun.” Anako spoke urgently. “You cannot stay.”

“I will. Oh, Gods.” It seemed petty to say thank you, but she had to. “You’ve given me everything. Seven is…”

“…your life. I know.” The look in Anako’s eyes grew distant. “Ahh…Ahh!” Her body arched in Janeway’s grasp and the she stumbled backward. Anako was immediately thrown into the painful arch Seven had been in.

“Time to go, Captain!” Kingas yelled. “Now!” She began to run toward the door with the unconscious Seven in her arms.

Janeway turned her head. The door had begun to close. “Come on. Move out!” She ran after Kingas. “Tom, Chakotay!”

With the smallest of margins, they all pressed through the door, barely in time to escape the thunderous boom inside the chamber. It kept going for what seem like minutes, but was probably only seconds.

Janeway pressed her face against the cold walls of the tunnel. Kingas stood next to her, her back against the wall, still cradling Seven. Raising her hand Janeway laced her fingers into the silken blonde hair. More tears ran down her cheeks. “Anako…”

* * *

“B’Elanna!”

The voice seemed to come from the end of a long tunnel, hissing, falling, echoing. B’Elanna tried to move, but something pinned her to the hard surface beneath. It hurt, and yet there was a warmth, something pleasant that began to permeate her.

“What’s going on? B’Elanna! Get away from her!”

It was…the Doctor? B’Elanna opened her eyes. The light in sickbay was so bright she had to close them almost shut again. “Doctor?” she croaked and tried to locate him.

“Let go of her! Who are you people?”

People? She squinted through the piercing light. What people?

The grip of her arms moved and it was as if invisible hands slid along her body. There was nothing inappropriate in the contact, and yet they touched every part of her. It took B’Elanna a few minutes to realise that every part of her they stroked, reduced the pain in that limb. Soon she could breathe again, and whatever had hurt inside, was gone.

“Doctor, please, it’s all right,” she called out. “I…I don’t know what it is, this light, but it’s healing.”

“What light?” the Doctor yelled back. “I see four aliens, energy forms, around you.”

Alien forms? B’Elanna tried to look up and now it was suddenly possible for her to see white lace-like forms drifting around her. They seemed to have a light blue pulsating centre, and she slowly reached out a hand. She felt a crackling sort of energy and some soft matter against her fingertips, but the benevolence was unmistakable.

As the being began to shift, move towards the place the Doctor’s voice originated from, B’Elanna became aware of her surroundings. She was still sitting slumped over the Doctor’s desk. Voyager seemed to be in once piece. B’Elanna reached for the work console and punched in a diagnostic command. “Computer. What is the state of the Voyager crew, on board as well as on the tarmac?”

“ _Eighteen casualties. Zero fatalities._ ”

“Damn, I have to find a way to get them to sickbay…”

“ _Correction. Fourteen casualties. Zero fatalities_.”

“What?”

 _“Correction. Ten casualties. Zero fatalities_.”

“Computer. Run a self-diagnostic…”

“ _Correction. Five casualties. Zero fatalities._ ”

“What is going on…?” A movement to her left made B’Elanna gasp out loud. “Neelix!”

“None other.” The Talaxian walked up to the desk and pulled B’Elanna into a fierce embrace. “They’re fixing us! The light people.”

B’Elanna clung to his beloved compact form, forgetting all the times Neelix had annoyed the hell out of her. “Gods, Neelix. I think they are.”

“ _Correction. Zero casualties. Zero fatalities_.”

The Doctor entered his office. “Seems I’m fresh out of patients,” he quipped, with dark seriousness in his voice. “What about the armoured vehicle?”

“Computer. Bring up outer sensors on screen.”

They stared at the image presented on the Doctor’s console. The armoured vehicle was reduces to a small, round object, perhaps three metres in diameter.

“It looks like it imploded into a perfectly shaped metal ball,” Neelix exhaled. “Was it the Light People?”

B’Elanna had to smile warily at his choice of designation. “I have a feeling it was. Voyager isn’t capable of such perfect destruction. I wonder if Masier was in there, or if we’ll have the dubious pleasure of running into him outside?”

The Doctor still looked grim, his usual flare gone. “Computer, locate Captain Janeway.”

“Captain Janeway is in sickbay.”

“Now what…” the Doctor hissed. “Computer, check again.”

“Not necessary. I’m here, Doctor,” a familiar husky voice said from behind.

B’Elanna stared over the Doctor’s shoulder. Next to Janeway stood Kingas, and in her arms lay a pale Seven of Nine. “Is she…?”

“She’s alive. Barely.” Janeway directed Kingas toward the main biobed.

“Why didn’t the Light-People fix her?” Neelix murmured, hurrying after them. He glanced over his shoulder and raised his voice. “Doctor! Don’t just stand there.”

The EMH looked grief stricken as he stared at Seven’s motionless body on the biobed. B’Elanna jumped up and grabbed his arm. She dug her nails into his holographic skin for emphasis, wanting to shake him out of whatever shock reaction he experienced. ““I think you spoke too soon, Doctor,” she murmured. “You have one more patient.”


	10. Chapter 10 & Epilogue

 Janeway watched the Doctor run a tricorder along Seven’s still form. Seven lay motionless and only when she focused closely on her midsection, could Janeway detect signs of breathing.

 “Her internal organs are in a state of flux and her nanoprobes are dormant. I have no idea why! They should be setting in at this rate.” The Doctor glanced grimly at Janeway. “With limited access to Voyager’s technology I have no way of reinitializing her cortical implant if it malfunctions.”

 “Then think of something else.” Janeway knew her voice was brusque. She forced tears back and refused to let her jumbled thoughts to take over. So much had happened; it was impossible to process it during these circumstances. All she could, or wanted, to think about, was Seven. “Use what you have and…”

 A low hum interrupted her and she drew her weapon, as did Tom and Chakotay. “Captain! Behind you!”

 Janeway pivoted and had to raise her free hand to shield her eyes against the bright light coming from the office area. It moved toward her and she felt her arms go weak and her disruptor fell to the floor. The light engulfed her, and ran through her as a brisk autumn wind. As if it cleansed every pore, replenished and refreshed every single molecule in her body, Janeway tensed for a moment, only to slump back against a computer console when the light moved away.

 The lights, Janeway now saw that there were several, at least four, floated toward the biobed. She was about to object, and saw Chakotay take a step forward, when B’Elanna placed strong hands on both their arms.

 “Wait,” she said in a low voice. “Just…let them.”

 Janeway drew deep breaths to stay calm as the lights rose and fell around Seven. It looked as if they caressed every inch of her, over and over. Finally they left her and with a crackling sound, they glimmered brightly and were gone.

 The light in sickbay almost seemed insufficient after looking at the piercing lights, but Janeway’s eyes finally adjusted and she rushed toward the biobed. “Seven?”

 Her lover didn’t respond, but her skin tone had turned from marbled blue to a healthy pink. The dark shadows under Seven’s eyes were now gone and she drew deep and slow breaths. Janeway felt Seven’s pulse on her neck and it was thick and steady.

 The Doctor scanned Seven and stared at his tricorder.

 “Doctor!” Janeway urged him. “How is she?”

 “She’s…okay. She’s sleeping.”

 “Sleeping?” Janeway turned to look at Seven again. Could it be true? Was she really okay?

 “Yes. She’s in deep REM sleep and will no doubt be like that for a bit. She has lost a lot of energy. As soon as she wakes up, I’ll have some replicated nanoprobes for her. Assuming the replicators are up and running, that is.” The Doctor obviously directed his last remark at B’Elanna who still held on to Chakotay’s arm.

 “I’ll do my best,” the usually so hot-headed Klingon said. “Tom?”

 “Here,” Tom said and stepped forward, staring at his wife. “You look…fine?”

 “I am,” B’Elanna whispered and fell into his arms. “As hard as it is to believe, I truly am.”

 Tom hid his face in her tousled hair. “Thank God.”

 “Oh, Seven…” a distraught voice said from behind. Janeway turned to scrutinize Neelix who stepped out from behind B’Elanna. He looked perfectly healthy, and yet, there was something new and startling in his amber eyes. Shadows that Janeway had never seen before.

 “Neelix,” she said and extended a hand. “Come here. I know Seven would like to hear your voice, that you’re okay. She loves you.”

 Neelix cleared his voice repeatedly before he was able to say anything. Janeway wondered if he knew how hard he squeezed her hand as he spoke to the still woman on the biobed. “Seven? Hi. Hello. Well, it’s me, Neelix. I’m fine. Yes, indeed. I’m so glad to see you back here, with us, with the captain.” He wiped at his eyes with his free hand. “When you feel up to it, I’ll whip up my best dessert and we’ll have a game of cadis-cot, okay? Sound good to you too? I thought it might.”

 Janeway gave Neelix’s hand a squeeze and let go. “Darling,” she said to Seven’s sleeping form, “I have things to take care of. I have to make sure the crew is all right.” She choked on her words, but continued. “You have the Doctor and Neelix here to make sure you’re safe. And I’ll be back…” Her voice trailed off as indigo eyes opened to narrow slits.

 “Kathryn…”

 “Annika.” Janeway leaned forward and pressed her lips gently against the dry and chapped lips of her lover. “Just rest now. Promise me. I love you.” She whispered her vow, knowing she had to move quickly, no matter that she wanted to remain by Seven’s side. Janeway experience actual physical pain as she withdrew from the biobed and only her resolve to make sure every single individual of her crew was safe, made it possible for her to slip into her command persona.

 She began to walk out of sickbay with Chakotay and Kingas in tow, when the pale, but familiar, face belonging to Harry Kim came into view. He was sitting up on one of the biobeds, looking dazed.

 “Harry!” Chakotay called out as they walked up to him. “You…you look so much better.”

 “I feel…tired. But fine.” Harry seemed amazed and a little out of it. Janeway guessed that his road to recovery would be much longer than Neelix’s, since he’d been dying only hours ago.

 “Wonderful,” Janeway whispered and caressed his cheek quickly before she headed out with her crew. Kingas and Mirish flanked Tom and Chakotay.

 “What the hell’s going on?” Tom murmured. “Who are these being that came out of nowhere and…healed our wounded?”

 “I have my suspicions,” Janeway replied and kept her disruptor raised. She had a feeling this was far from over. “We may have some powerful allies, but since we know hardly anything about them, we can’t trust in their benevolence just yet.”

 “I see you’ve made the correct deduction, Captain,” Kingas said. She moved with lethal grace next to Chakotay. “These are extraordinary circumstances, and for them to show themselves…it’s only been mentioned in the folklore stories. It hasn’t happened for centuries.”

 “What hasn’t happened?” Chakotay asked.

 “The Shantari.” Kingas voice showed reverence tinged with trepidation. “They’re here.” 

 Outside there was an almost eerie silence. Smoke still billowed from the structures hit by Voyagers torpedoes and the rebels’ fire. Now all the fighting had ceased and Voyager’s crew were moving toward their vessel. Among them, they carried the previously dying men and women, and it was obvious that the Shantari had paid them a visit as well.

 “Captain!” A cry to Janeway’s left sent chills down her spine. “Captain! He’s got her!” Samantha Wildman ran so fast, in full panic, that she fell, rolled twice before she got up again. Her knees bleeding beneath her tattered skirt, she seemed mindless of the unnatural angle of her wrist. “He’s got Naomi!”

 “Masier,” Mirish whispered. “She means Masier.”

 Janeway knew she was right and cold fury and red-hot dread shot through her system. “The bastard,” she hissed as they rushed toward Samantha.

 Chakotay caught the frantic woman and stopped her from falling again. “Ensign, you’re wounded.” He waved over two female crewmembers. “Help Ensign Wildman to sickbay.”

 “Where is he? Do you know?” Janeway asked Samantha.

 “He moved into the jungle at the east side of the tarmac, Captain.” Samantha hugged her obviously broken wrist to her chest. “He carried Naomi under his arm and fired against us.”

 “So he’s armed and on the move,” Kingas said. She picked up her radio. “Dargas, where are you? Over.”

 “ _Damage control. We’ve got about twenty-five prisoner in the south-east corner,” Dargas said through the static. "Over._ "

 “Masier is on the move with a child. A young girl. He’s moving due east, as far as we know. This is our chance, Dargas, but don’t endanger the child. Over.”

 “ _Got it. I’ll circle around him from the south. Dargas out._ ”

 “We’ll go in from the east then.” Kingas glanced at Janeway. “Got enough troops to send a team from the north. We can’t have him slip through any cracks now.”

 “I’ll send six of my crew that way.” Janeway tapped her com badge. “Janeway to Tuvok. Report!”

 “ _Tuvok here. My team and I are in the process of securing perimeters north of Voyager._ ”

 Janeway briefed him rapidly and Tuvok assured her that Masier would not escape passed his men. There was a dangerous tone in his voice, which indicated that her old friend was not as detached as a Vulcan normally should be.

 “Let’s go.” Janeway glanced at the two crewmembers holding Samantha upright. “Get that fixed. We’ll get her back, Samantha.”

 “Please, Captain. She’s…”

 “She’s precious to all of us and she’s your child. I know.” Janeway motioned for her team to run with her down the tarmac toward where Masier had disappeared with Naomi.

 The smell of decaying plants and undergrowth filled Janeway’s nostrils and she knew no matter what the future held, this scent would linger with her, and possibly follow her in nightmares. She’d hid in this godforsaken jungle for months, starved and hunted. Now, roles were reversed and she was the hunter, on a quest to save the life of a child.  _Naomi, sweetest child, please be all right._  She forced herself through the jungle, on a practically invisible path.

 Behind her, Kingas and Mirish ran while exchanging muttering words between them, barely audible. The growth thickened, and the only comfort as they struggled to make their way through it was that Masier would have the same problem.

 A piercing scream echoed from somewhere in front of them. A child, in danger, possibly tormented. Janeway lengthened her stride, pushed through the vegetation without concern for how it scratched her face and hands.  _What the hell is he doing to her?_  Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, as fast and furious as her thoughts, and Janeway was grateful for the adrenaline that permeated her, enforcing her strength.

 The jungle seemed to open up, the trees were fewer and the low vegetation less dense, allowing more light to permeate down to the six people that ran as fast as they could toward the sound of Voyager's littlest crewmember.

 They reached a small clearing in the jungle and Janeway came to a quick halt, gasping for air. She pushed a few thin twigs aside to get a better view without being spotted by Masier and gasped out loud.

 In the middle Masier was standing in a position that seemed impossible. Hi was bent over backward, so far that she would think he’d break his back any second. It reminded her of Seven’s posture when they found her in the cave. What made her gasp was not so much the painful position, but the fact that Masier seemed to levitate several centimeters off the ground. He swayed slightly and his face was a mask of pure fear.

 Naomi lay on the ground just before him and a shimmering light, consisting of all the colors visible to the human eye, surrounded her like a glass dome. Her body was rolled up in a fetal position and Janeway wasn’t close enough to judge if she was breathing or not.

 “Argh!” Masier grunted loudly. “Let me go!” It was obvious that he couldn’t move, but the words broke free from his immobilized lips anyway. “Damn you…whoever the hell you are!”

 The light brightened and now Janeway could detect three clear points of light floating from the massive brightness around Masier. They settled next to Naomi and now Janeway could not stay hidden any longer. She rushed over the clearing and stopped as the glow from what Neelix called the Light People became too bright for her eyes. She raised her hand to shield them. “Please. Allow me to take care of Naomi. She’s an innocent child…”

 The three points of light dimmed for a moment and after a few more seconds, they morphed into three dimensional beings. Or, rather, something resembling projections of beings. Two of them looked female, with long glowing hair, and the third looked like an older male, with shining silver eyes and a strong, alien face.

 “Shantari-of-the-Lights,” Kingas murmured behind her and knelt, bowing her head. Mirish tugged at Janeway and followed suit.

 Janeway wanted to snatch Naomi and hold the girl close, but knew it was imperative to make first contact the right way. She knelt on one knee, placing her hand on the bent one. She didn’t take her eyes off the three beings for a moment.

 The two female Shantari leaned down and helped Naomi to her feet. The child looked drowsily at them, as if she was  half asleep. One of the Shantari females placed her hands around Naomi’s head and whispered something in a language even the universal translator couldn’t decipher. Naomi smiled vaguely and wobbled toward Janeway who knelt only a few feet away.

 “Captain,” the little girl whispered. “They say I can go back to my mom now. Back to Voyager. The evil man can’t hurt me.”

 Janeway wrapped her arms around Naomi. She hugged her close and inhaled the scent of her. Sweat and dirt couldn’t conceal the special scent of a child and Janeway’s heart lifted and for the first time in months, she began to feel like everything was going to be all right.

 Chakotay took Naomi from Janeway and cradled her in his arms, just as Tuvok appeared from the north. He entered the clearing with his men and at the same time, Dargas approached from the south. They stopped and stared at the Shantari who now stood around the levitating Masier. A strange sound hummed in the air, and it appeared to come from them, even if their mouths were closed.

 “Sounds like they’re chanting,” Chakotay murmured from behind. “What are they doing?”

 The Shantari seemed focused on Masier, staring at him with fire in their eyes as the humming sound grew louder, in an increasingly faster pattern.

 Janeway, Kingas, and Mirish rose. They all stood in a ring around the Shantari and Masier, watching in awe as Masier’s body was lowered toward the ground. His feet now touched the grass and after yet another moment, they were pushed down, buried. With every word, the Shantari sent Masier deeper and deeper. He opened his mouth, probably to cry out in protest, but not a sound came over his lips.

“By the Gods,” Chakotay gasped. “They’re impelling him!”

“What do you mean?” Janeway turned her head and saw how Chakotay stared in horror-filled fascination at the Shantari.

“They’re impelling him into the ground. I’ve heard of this, by word of mouth by the elders and the shamans of my tribe…but never seen it. I don’t think many people have witness it.” His face contorted. “As much as I hate Masier…” He left the rest unsaid.

Janeway turned her head back and regarded the Shantari send Masier farther and farther into the ground until the dirt closed over his head. There was no sound, not even a breeze rushing through the trees. Everything was eerily quiet for a moment.

“Look, what’s that?” Mirish pointed over Janeway’s shoulder to their left. “Something’s moving over there!”

Janeway raised her disruptor and aimed at the movement in the brushes. Dirt fell around a rounded form and it was clear that something was coming up through the ground, only a few feet away from where Masier had disappeared 

“Are they digging the man up again?” little Naomi asked, her clear voice carrying easily over the clearing.

“I should hope not.” Kingas huffed.

The prone form laid curled up, very still, much like Naomi had only moments ago. Dressed in remarkably clean white garments, the individual showed no signs of being alive.

 “It can’t be true!” Dargas called out. “What is going on? Dorma!” He rushed to the still figure on the ground and pulled what turned out to be a young man into his arms. “Tell me he’s alive, please…” The strong, usually quite hostile and brusque man wept as he cradled his younger brother. “Dorma.”

 Janeway followed behind Kingas and Mirish when they walked over to the two men. Slowly Dorma opened his eyes, and Janeway saw the boy was as young as Anako. He looked up at them in mild surprise. “Dargas.” He smiled. “They told me it was just a matter of time until I’d go back.”

 “Thank you. Gods of Shantari. Thank you!” Dargas called out and now his men and Kingas and Mirish knelt again. Janeway signaled to her crewmembers to follow suit. Furtively she looked around to see if the earth moved somewhere else.  _Anako. Please, send us Anako._

  _A.n.a.k.o  i.s  w.i.t.h  h.e.r  a.n.c.e.s.t.o.r.s.  A.n.a.k.o  w.i.l.l  f.u.l.l.f.i.l.l  h.e.r  f.a.t.e.  A.n.a.k.o  i.s  h.a.p.p.y._

 The soft voices sang inside Janeway’s head, and she understood perfectly these alien words, as if they were of her mother tongue. “No,” she gasped. “Please. It wasn’t her time. She wasn’t supposed to go.”

_A.n.a.k.o  h.a.s  c.h.o.s.e.n  h.e.r  d.e.s.t.i.n.y.  H.e.r f.u.t.u.r.e  i.s  w.i.t.h  u.s.  H.e.r s.a.c.r.i.f.i.c.e  c.o.m.m.e.n.c.e.s  a  n.e.w  e.r.a  w.h.i.c.h  s.e.c.u.r.e.s  t.h.e  l.i.f.e  o.f  t.h.e  i.n.n.o.c.e.n.t.s._

Janeway knew then Anako was lost to them. If the Shantari said she had chosen, then Janeway believed them. She could not picture anyone coercing the young woman into doing anything against her will. “Be kind to her.”

_F.e.a.r  n.o.t,  W.o.m.a.n  o.f  E.a.r.t.h.  W.e  k.n.o.w  o.f  h.e.r  c.o.u.r.a.g.e.  W.e  k.n.o.w o.f  h.e.r  a.f.f.e.k.t.i.o.n  o.f  h.e.r  p.e.o.p.l.e  a.n.d  h.e.r  f.r.i.e.n.d.s.  D.o.r.m.a.s's  s.a.c.r.i.f.i.c.e  w.a.s  d.o.n.e  w.i.t.h  c.o.u.r.a.g.e  a.n.d  h.e.a.r.t,  b.u.t  i.t  w.a.s  n.o.t  h.i.s  t.i.m.e.  H.i.s  f.a.t.e  l.i.e.s  e.l.s.e.w.h.e.r.e._

Dorma now sat up and looked at them all with shining eyes. “Can you hear them? In your head?”

“Yes,” simultaneous voice replied, and Janeway understood that she wasn’t the only one who’d been addressed by the Shantari. The Godlike forms were slowly turning into points of light again before they whirled up in a spear like shape, only to turn with a sizzling sound and burrow into the ground before they were gone.

Janeway found she couldn’t move. “I never thanked them,” she whispered, wiping at tears running down her cheeks. “They helped us, stopped Masier, and healed our wounded.”

“Because of Anako,” Dorma said.

“You saw her?” Kingas asked.

“Yes. I was waiting in their halls, vast obsidian halls that went on forever, when there was a resounding bang, like a large gong. Suddenly, a door opened that wasn’t there before, and Anako stepped in. She stood for a moment and then ran over and hugged me.”

“Was she all right?” Janeway asked.

Dorma looked at her. “Yes. And you must be the captain.”

“Correct.” Janeway’s throat constricted. “I’m Captain Janeway.”

“When she learned that they were sending me back, she told me to tell you, all of you, that we’re facing a new beginning. Our fight isn’t over, but we have taken a new step by allowing a true member of the  _Shantari-Vorisan_  to join them. And that’s why they did something they’ve never done before.” Dorma’s eyes glistened, but he didn’t cry. “They showed themselves and sent me back.”

Dargas pulled the young man to his feet. “Can you stand? 

“Yes, brother.”

“I’ve missed you.” Dargas’s voice was rough, but the love shone through.

“As have I,” Dorma murmured.

Eventually, they were all ready to move out and back to the tarmac. Tuvok suggested he and Dargas join forces to smoke out every single of Masier’s mercenaries and Janeway agreed. They also needed to start repairs on Voyager and make her space worthy again. B’Elanna, who met them on the ledge to shuttle bay one, swore if Neelix could scare up some blueberry pancakes, she’d get right on it, even if she had to use gum and strings to do it.

Janeway hurried through the ship, Chakotay by her side with Naomi cradled in his arms. The little girl was asleep and looked serene and content where she lay with her head tucked into his shoulder. There was something so right in this picture that Janeway faltered for a moment.  _Chakotay as paternal? This day is just getting weirder._  But when she thought about it, how tender Chakotay always had been with the little girl, it made sense.

The light in sickbay was muted and only two crewmembers, apart from Seven, were lying on the biobeds. One had been injured after the Shantari made their miraculous appearance, and was only there for observation. The second was Samantha Wildman who now sat up with a whimper, reaching out for her girl. “Naomi…” she whispered, and the child clung to her in her sleep.

Janeway strode up to the main biobed, and looked longingly down at Seven who was also fast asleep. The Doctor had hooked up an IV transfusion of replicated nanoprobes and he was sitting in his office, only nodding in her direction with a reassuring smile.

Seven looked beautiful, despite the dark rings under her eyes and the long disheveled blonde hair. Her lips were slightly parted and white teeth glistened between them. Janeway gauged the space next to Seven on the biobed, and decided it was enough. Bone-deep fatigue made the fact that she was dirty, and still in her makeshift uniform consisting of the rough coverall and her uniform jacket, a moot point.

Janeway slid up next to Seven and wormed her arm under her neck. Only when she could hide her face against Seven’s shoulder did she allow her tears to run. Perhaps if she could make them wash the torment of the last months away. Janeway knew this experience would be yet another harsh emotional aftermath to deal with. She’d come so close to losing Seven, too many times, and she wasn’t sure she could take it, if it happened again. “You’re my heart, Annika,” she whispered. “My heart, and you're a part of my soul.” Afraid, and still prone to reason fatalistically regarding their situation, Janeway closed her eyes.  _So, what if we’re never able to leave here? With Masier and his men gone, it can provide to be a good home for the crew. We have allies and have made new friends. That’s not bad._ But the promise to get her crew home remained. Even, at this rate, Janeway knew they were all ready to die trying.

 

**Epilogue**

 

Seven of Nine walked onto the bridge, her eyes immediately searching for Kathryn. The captain wasn’t in her seat, instead she just came out of her ready room with Kingas and Mirish in tow.

“Thank you, for everything,” Kathryn said and extended her hand. Kingas took it in the human way of greeting and shook it.

“It is we who are grateful,” Kingas murmured and sighed. “Without your ordeal, we may never have had such success. Sacrificing Anako wouldn’t have happened the way it did.

Seven had never met the young woman who’d taken her place in the obsidian chamber, but she would forever be grateful to her. She could see on Kathryn’s face that the mere mention of Anako’s name was enough for her to falter.

“You’re probably true. Our destinies were intertwined, I suppose.”

“And you, Captain, are a remarkable woman,” Mirish added. “I don’t think I could’ve survived on my own in the jungle the way you did.”

“I almost didn’t,” Kathryn reminded her. “You saved me. You and Kingas.”

“So, we’re even, then,” Mirish laughed and wrinkled her nose. “Works for me!”

Kathryn turned her head and found Seven. Motioning for her to approach them, she circled Seven’s waist with her arm. “Why don’t we follow Kingas and Mirish to transporter room one? It is time to say goodbye.

Seven nodded and they all went into the turbo lift she had vacated only a moment ago. Mirish regarded her with curious eyes.

“Yes?” Seven raised an eyebrow.

“I can see why the captain was so adamant in saving you. And I’m not talking about your extraordinary beauty.”

Not sure it was a compliment, Seven regarded Mirish with apprehension. She still suffered moodswings and had nightmares, and she didn’t trust herself to sound polite enough.

“Mirish, you’re embarrassing Seven,” Kingas admonished.

“No, she is not.” Seven tried to sound casual. “Please, elaborate.” The truth was, she was curious to Mirish’s observation.

“The way you look at the captain, how you love her with your eyes, and everything you say or do—how can a woman not risk their life willingly, to rescue the person who loves her like that? It is clear to me that you are her world and she is yours. I have never quite come across this type of love. I have seen love between siblings, parents and children, but the passion and love you two have…I’m amazed.” Mirish spoke with true reverence, which brought tears to Seven’s human eye.

“Thank you,” she managed. “Kathryn means everything to me and she knows that. And I know how much she loves me. She has sacrificed a lot for me, many times. 

They exited the turbo lift and walked toward transporter room one.

“This time, if it wasn’t for Anako, she would have sacrificed herself to the Shantari, and who knows what all our futures would have seemed then?” Kingas shook her head. “Our fates are what they are, and it’s best we know nothing about what’s going to happen.”

“That’s a true word,” Kathryn agreed and broke her silence. She took Seven’s hand and kept it as they entered the transporter room. As Mirish and Kingas stepped onto the dais, Kathryn looked at them with fond eyes. “I’m going to miss you. Of all the people we’ve met during our journey home, you two stand out as the most courageous and the ones that I really would've liked to have sustained a friendship with.”

“You don’t have to sustain anything, Captain,” Mirish said with an impish smile. “We’re friends. Hell, I think it goes beyond that. We’re practically family.”

Seven heard Janeway draw a deep breath. “Yes, we are.” Kathryn turned around to the ensign on duty. “Energize.”

Kingas and Mirish disappeared in a glittering cascade of light when their molecules dissolved.

“They’re at their coordinates on the tarmac, safe and sound, Captain,” the ensign said, and Seven heard that even her voice were not quite stable.

As they walked back to the bridge, Kathryn was quiet yet again. Seven didn’t mind, since she felt it was a good, benevolent silence. They stepped into the turbo lift, yet again, and after only ten point six-four-two seconds, Kathryn gave the order for it to stop its ascent.

“Yes?” Seven asked, curious why her fiancée would do this just before they intended to break orbit and set course for the Alpha Quadrant.

“You know she’s right, don’t you? Mirish?”

“Yes.”

“I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too.”

“If it wasn’t for Anako…” Kathryn’s face pinched and she gasped softly. “You would’ve liked her. She was…so alive, and so brave.”

“She sounds like a formidable individual.” Seven wasn’t jealous of Kathryn’s affection for Anako, because she sensed the maternal feelings behind her words. “I wish I had known her.”

“She did see you, in the chamber. She touched you, when she took your place between the obsidian poles. In a way, you know her. Of her.”

Seven considered this. At first it didn’t make sense, but when she thought about it, and probed her eidetic memory, suddenly she saw a dark haired young woman with face paint and a black bandana around her head. The young woman had a determined expression, and yet she was pale. Trembling. The touch, when they brushed against each other, was trembling so hard, Seven could feel the young woman’s, Anako’s, skin vibrate against her.

“I did see her. I did feel her.” Seven pulled Kathryn in for a close, almost desperate embrace. “I did.”

“I believe you.” Kathryn kissed Seven’s neck, soft, loving kisses. “She saved us both.”

“Yes.”

The bridge was bussing with activity as several more officers were present for when they broke out of orbit. Many of B’Elanna’s solutions were hardly Star Fleet standard, but as long as they got them on their way, preferably toward an alien space station where they could barter for some sorely needed parts, they would be all right. The replicators were up and running, and so was the main deflector and the warp core.

Kathryn sat down in her command chair and Seven took her station right behind her. She looked proudly down at Kathryn as the other woman crossed her legs and placed her hands on the armrests in a calm, familiar manner.

Kathryn glanced at Seven and winked before turning toward the screen. “All right, Mr. Paris. Set course for the Alpha Quadrant. It’s time to go.” Kathryn’s commanding persona was intact, to the last syllable. “Engage.”

 

End


End file.
